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LECTURES 

ON    THE         /  ^       //    '// 

GOSPEL  OF  ST,  MATTHEW; 

DEHVERED    IN    THE 

PARISH  CHURCH  OF  ST.  JAMES, 
WESTMINSTER, 

IN    THE    YEARS    1798,    1799,    1800,    AND    I80L 


BY  THE  Jt^-HT  REVEIIEND 

BEILBY^PORTEUS,  d.  d. 

BISHOP  OF  LONDON'. 


TWO  VOLUMES  IN  ONE. 
^5e  fi'r0t  amerkat:  from  x%z  fiftl)  ilonaon  CBition* 


Printed  for  increase  cooke  &  co.  and  sold  by  them  at 

THEIR  BOOK  STORE,    SOUTti  CORNER  OF  THE  GREEN 
NEW-KAVEN,  AND  BY  THE  PRIN-QIPAL  BOOK-  ' 

SELLERS  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES. 


tram  Sidnej/^s  Press, 

1803. 


TO   THE 

I  N  H  A  B  I  T  A  N  T  S 

OF 

LONDON  AND  WESTMINSTER, 

THESE    LECTURES, 

WRITTEN     PRINCIPALLY     FOR     THEIR     BENEFIT,     AND 
FAVORED    WITH     THEIR     UNREMITTED    ATTEND- 
ANCE    FOR     FOUR     SUCCESSIVE     YEARS, 

ARE 

WITH     VERY    SINCERE     SENTIMENTS    OF    REGARD 
AND    ESTEEM, 
AN©    WITH     FERVANT     PRAYERS     FOR 
THEI.R     HAPPINESS     HERE    AND    HEREAFTER- 
INSCRIBED, 

BY 

THEIR    FAITHFUL    AND    AFFECTIONATE 

FRIEND    AND    SERVANT, 

THE  AUTHOR. 


EXTRACT  FROM  THE  BRITISH  CRITIC. 

THESE  LECTURES,  thus  circumstanred,*  <wrkien  nv'tth 
an  ardor  of  patriotism^  a  genuhic  thirst  of  piety  f  and  a  strong 
sense  of  duty  ;  delivered  ^jjlih  an  animation  and  eloquence^  for 
ivhlchi  through  life,  the  Bishop  of  London  has  been  eminently 
distinguished ;  heard  ivith  deep  and  silent  attention  by  admiri7ig 
multitudes,  are  now  presented  to  the puhllc. 

How  acceptable  the  pullic  has  considered  the  gift,  suffciently 
appears  from  the  fad:,  that,  in  a  very  short  interval  of  time,  four 
editions  have  been  a&ually  disposed  of  and  a  fifth  is  now  in  market, 

yls  the  pifbRc  voice,  and  puhllc  gratitude  have  already  stampt 
a  value  upon  these  lectures,  it  would  be  idle,  and  siiperfiious 
io  make  any  critical  observations  upcm  them,  or  to  detain  the  reader 
with  any  circumstantial  account  of  our  private  opinion  of  their 
merit. 

The  truest  mark  of  respeB  we  can  show  to  the  venerable  Author, 
as  well  as  to  the  public,  is  to  express  our  unfeigned  wish,  that  their 
circulation  may  he  circumscribed  by  no  other  limits,  than  those  where 
the  dodrincs  of  Christianity  are  known  and  revered.  They  are 
calculated  cdlke  to  do  good  to  the  learned,  and  the  unlearned,  the 
aged,  as  well  as  the  inexperienced,  the  grave,  and  the  refleding, 
the  gay,  and  the  thoughtless. 

They  are  learned  without  ostentation,  pious  without  any  tlnUure 
of  enthusiasm,  argumentative  without  pedatitry,  and  perspicuous 
tvithoui  losing  sight  of  the  graces  of  stile  anddidion. 

May  the  excellent,  and  amiable  Preacher  still  live  to  enjoy  the 
consciousness,  that  his  exertions  in  the  cause  of  that  religion,  which 
he  adorns  by  his  example,  have  not  been  made  in  vain, 
*   See  the  Author" s  Preface. 


s*^ 


PREFACE. 


J^\^T  the  time  when  the  following  Lectures  were  first 
begun,  the  political,  moral,  and  religious  state  of  this  king, 
dom,  wore  a  very  unfavorable  aspect,  and  excited  no  small 
degree  of  uneasiness  and  alarm  in  every  serious  and  reflecting 
mind.      The  enemies  of    this  country  were  almost  every 
where  triumphant  abroad,  and  its  still  more  formidable  ene- 
mies at  home  were  indefatigably  active  in  their  endeavors  to 
diffuse  the  poison  of  disaffection,  infidelity,  and   contempt 
of  the  holy  Scriptures,  through  every  part  of  the  kingdom, 
more  especially  among  the  lower  orders  of  the  people,  by  the 
most  offensive  and  impious  publications ;  while  at  the  same  time 
it  must  be  acknowledged,  that  among  too  many  of  the  higher 
classes,  there  prevailed,  in  the  midst  of  all  our  distresses,  a 
spirit  of  dissipation,  profusion,  and  voluptuous   gaiety,  ill 
suited  to  the  gloominess  of  our  situation,   and  ill  calculated 
to  secure  to  us  the  protection  of  heaven  against  the  various 
dangers  that  menaced  us  on  every  side.     Under  these  circum- 
stances, it  seemed  to  be  the  duty  of  every  friend  to  religion, 
morality,  good  order,    and  good  government,    and  more 
especially  of  the  ministers  of  the  Gospel,  to  exert  every  power 
and  every  talent  with  which  God  had  blessed  them,   in  order 
to  counteract  the  baneful  effects  of  those  pestilential  ^vritings 
which  every  day  issued  from  the  press  ;  to  give  some  check 
to  the  growing  relaxation  of  public  manners ;  to  state  plainly 


VI 


PREFACE. 


and  forcibly  the  evidences  of  our  faith,  and  the  genuine  doo, 
trines  of  our  religion,  the  true  principles  of  submission  to 
our  lawful  governors,  the  mode  of  conduct  in  every  relation 
of  life  which  the  Gospel  prescribes  to  us  ;  and  to  vindicate 
the  truth,  dignity,  and  divine  authority  of  the  sacred  wri- 
tings. All  this,  after  much  deliberation,  I  conceived  could 
in  no  other  way  be  so  effectually  done  as  by  having  recourse 
to  those  writings  themselves,  by  going  back  to  the  very 
fountain  of  truth  and  holiness,  and  by  drawing  from  that 
sacred  source  the  proofs  of  its  own  celestial  origin,  and  all 
the  evangelical  virtues  springing  from  it,  and  branchmg  out 
into  the  various  duties  of  civil,  social,  and  domestic  life. 

The  result  was,  that  I  resolved  on  discharging  my  share  of 
these  weighty  obligations,  by  giving  Lectures  on  the  Gospel 
of  St.  Matthew,  in  my  own   parish   church  of   St.  James, 
Westminster,    every  Friday  in  Lent ;    which  at  the  same 
time  that  it  promoted  my  principal  object,  might  also  draw 
a  little  more  attention  to  that  holy,  but  too  much  neglected 
season,  which  our  Church  has  very  judiciously  set  apart  for 
the  purpose   of  retirement   and  recollection,  and  of  giving 
some  little  pause  and  respite  to  the  ceaseless  occupations  and 
amusements  of  a  busy  and  a  thoughtless  world.     I  foresaw* 
however,  many  difficulties  in  the  undertaking,  particularly 
in  drawing  together  any  considerable  number  of  people  to  a 
place  of  public  worship,  for  any  length  of  time,  on  a  com- 
mon day  of  the  week.     But  it  pleased  God  to  bless  the  at- 
tem.pt  v/ith  a  degree  of  success  far  beyond  every  thing  1  could 
have  expected  or  imagined.     And  as  I  have  been  assured 
l^at  several  even  of  those  amongst  my  audience,  that  disbe* 


PREFACE.  vu 

lieved  or  doubted  the  truth  of  Christianity,  were  impressed 
with  a  more  favorable  opinion  both  of  its  evidences  and  its 
doctrines,  and  with  a  higher  veneration  for  the  sacred  writ- 
ings  than  they  had  before  entertained,  I  am  willing  to  flatter 
myself  that  similar  impressions  may  possibly  be  made  on 
some  of  that  description,  who  may  chance  to  cast  their  eyes 
on  these  pages  ;  and  that  they  may  also  tend  in  some  degree 
to  confirm  the  faith  and  invigorate  the  good  resolutions  of 
mtany   sincere  believers  in  the   Gospel.     With  this  hope  I 
now  offer  them   to  the   world,    and  particularly   to   those 
whom  Providence  has  placed  under  my  more  immediate  su- 
perintendence, and  to  whom  I  am  desirous  to  bequeath  this 
(perhaps)  last  public   testimony  of  my  sohcitude  for  their 
everlasting  welfare.     And  whatever  errors,  imperfections, 
or  accidental  repetitions   (arising  from  the  recurrence  of  tlie 
same  subjects   in  the  sacred  narrative)    the  critical  reader 
may  discover  in  this  work  ;  he  will,  I  trust,  be  disposed  to 
think  them  entitled  to  some  degree  of  indulgence,  when  he 
reflects  that  it  was  not  a  very  easy  task  to  adapt  either  the 
matter  or  the  language  of  such  discourses  as  these  to  tlie 
various    characters,    conditions,    circumstances,    capacities, 
and  wants  of  all  those  different  ranks  of  people  to  whom 
they  were  addressed  ;  and  when  he  is  also  told,  that  these 
Lectures  were  drawn  up  at  a  very  advanced  period  of  life, 
and  not   in  the  ease  and  tranquility  of  literary  retirement, 
but  at  short  broken  intervals  of  time,  such  as  could  be  stolen 
from  the  incessant  occupations  of  an  arduous  and  laborious 
station,  which  would  not  admit  of  sufficient  leisure  for  prc^ 
found  research  or  finished  composition. 


'k 


CONTENTS 


OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME, 


LECTURE  I.     Feb.  23,  1798, 
A  Compendious  View  of  the  Sacred  Writings, 


J.ECTURE  11.     March  %  1798. 

Matthew  ii. 

The  Arrival  and  Offerings  of  the  Wise  Men  at  Bethlehem, 


LECTURE  III,     March  9,  1798. 

Matthew  iii. 

Jiistory  and  Doctrines  of  John  the  Baptist, 


LECTURE  IV.     March   16,  1798. 

Matthew  iv. — Former  Part. 

Temptation  of  Christ  in  the  Wildemes?. 
C  2 


CONTENTS. 

LECTURE  V.     March  23,  1798. 

Matthew  iv. — Latter  Part. 

Choice  of  the  Apostles. — Beginning  of  Miracles, 


LECTURE  VI.     March   30,  1798. 

Matthew  v. 

Our  Lord's  Sermon  on  the  Mount. 


LECTURE  VIL     Feb.  8,  IM. 

Matthew  vi.  and  vii. 

Continuation  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount. 


LECTURE  VIII.     Feb.   15,  1799. 

Matthew  viii. 

Condud  and  Charaaer  of  the  Roman  Centurion. 


LECTURE  IX.     Feb.  22,  1799. 
Matthew  x. 
Our  Lord's  Inftrudions  to  his  Apordes. 


LECTURE  X.     March   1,  1799. 

Matthew  xii. 

Observation  of  die  Sabbath ;  Demoniacs ;  Blasphefn^v  ag.iinst 
the  Holy  Ghost. 


CONTENTS. 
LECTURE  XI.     March  8,  1799. 
Matthew  xiii. 
Nature  and  Use  of  Parables. 


LECTURE  XIL     March   15,  1799, 

Matthew  xlil.  continued. 

Parable  of  the  Sower  explained. 


LECTURE  XIII.     Feb.  28,  1800. 

Matthew  xiii.  continued. 

Parable  of  the  Tares  explained. 


CONTENTS 
OF    THE    SECOND    VOLUME. 


LECTURE  XIV.     March  7,  1800. 

Matthew   xiv. 

History  of  Herod  and  Herodias. — Death  of  John  the  Baptist. 


LECTURE  XV.     March   14,  1800. 

Matthew  xvii. 
The  Transfiguration  of  Christo 


1^  CONTENTS, 

LECTURE  XVI.     March  21,  1800, 

Matthew  xviii. 

Making  our  Brother  to  offend. — Parable  of  the  unforgiving 
Servant. 


LECTURE  XVIL     March  28,  1800. 

Matthew  xix. 

The  Means  of  attaining  Eternal  Life. — Difficulty  of  a  Rich 
Man  entering  into  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven. 

4 

LECTURE  XVIII.     April  4,  1800. 

Matthew  xxii. 

Parable  of  the  Marriage  Feast. — Insidious  Questions  put  to 
Christ. — The  Two  great  Commandments. 

LECTURE  XIX.     Feb.  20,  1801. 

Matthew  xxiv. 

Our  Lord's  Predidicn  of  the  Siege  and  Destru(5lion  of  Je* 
rusalem. 


LECTURE  XX.     Fes.  27,  1801. 

Matt  HE  v/  xxiv.  xxv. 

Further  Remarks  on  the  same  Prophecy. — Parables  of  the 
Ten  Virgins  and  of  the  Talents — Day  of  Judgment. 


CONTENTS.  xiii 

LECTURE  XXI.     March  6,  1801, 

Matthew  xxvi. 

institution  of  the  Lord's  Supper — Our  Lord's  Agony  in 
the  Garden. — Betrayed  by  Judas. — Carried  before  the 
High  Prieft, 


LECTURE  XXIL     March  13,  1801. 

Matthew  xxvii. 

Christ  carried  before  Pilate — tried— condemned — and  cra-< 
cified. 


LECTURE  XXIII.     March  20,  1801. 

Matthew  xxvii.  xxviii. 

Doctrine  of  Redemption. — Burial  and  Resurre<Sion  of  our 
Blessed  Lord. 


LECTURE  XXIV.     March  27,  1801. 

Matthew  xxviii. 

The  Mysteries  of  Christianity.— Conclusion  of  th2  Gospei 
of  St.  Matthew,  and  of  the  Lectures. 


;:>«::;>::;  ::i<>«::;w;;:;'<>!>:;!-!;;;s-^:;>!;:;:-!;:::i<::!<;;';;;>:::  :;:■:::>:;:  ::i<;ui<:::<>s:;:!-:::  .:!•!:: 


LECTURE    I, 


•<•  < -^^-O- © '<>•  <^V 


I 


.T  being  my  intention  to  give  from  this  place,  on 
the  Fridays  during  Lent,  a  courfe  of  Lectures  explanatory 
and  pradlical  on  fuch  parts  of  Scripture  as  feem  to  me  beft 
calculated  to  inform  the  underftandings  and  affedt  the  hearts 
of  thofe  that  hear  me,  I  fhall  proceed,  without  further  pre-^ 
face,  to  the  execution  of  a  defign,  in  which  edification,  not 
entertainment,  ufefulnefs,  not  novelty,  are  the  obj efts  I  have 
in  view  ;  and  in  which  therefore  I  may  fometimes  perhaps 
avail  myfelf  of  the  labors  of  others,  when  they  appear 
to  me  better  calculated  to  anfwer  my  purpofe  than  any  thing 
I  am  myfelf  capable  of  producing. 

Although  my  obfervations  will  for  the  prefent  be  confin- 
ed entirely  to  the  Gofpel  of  St.  Matthew,  and  only  to  cer- 
tain feleft  parts  even  of  that,  yet  it  may  not  be  improper  or 
unprofitable  to  introduce  thefe  Lectures  by  a  compendious 
view  of  the  principal  contents  of  thofe  writings  which  go 
under  the  general  name  of  the  Holy  Scriptures. 

That  book  which  we  call  the  Bible  (that  is,  the  Book, 
by  way  of  eminence)  although  it  is  comprized  in  one  volume, 
yet  in  faft:  comprehends  a  great  number  of  different  narra- 
tives and  compofitions,  written  at  different  times,  by  different 
perfons,  in  different  languages,  and  on  different  fubjecls. 
And  taking  the  whole  of  the  colledion  together,  it  is  an 
unqueftionable  truth  that  tliere  is  no  one  book  extant,  in  any 
language,  or  in  any  country,  which  can  in  any  degree  be 


ie  LECTURE!. 

compared  with  it  for  antiquity,  for  authority,  for  the  import* 
ance,  the  dignity,  the  variety,  and  the  curiofity  of  the  mat- 
ter it  contains. 

It  begins  with  that  gieat  and  ftupenduous  event,  of  all 
others  the  earlieft  and  moft  interefting  to  the  hiainan  race,  the 
creation  of  this  world,  of  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  of  the 
celeftial  luminaries,  of  man,  and  all  the  inferior  animals,  the 
herbs  of  the  field,  the  fea  and  its  inhabitants.  All  this  it 
defcribes  with  a  brevity  and  fublimity  well  fuited  to  the  mag- 
nitude of  the  fubjeft,  to  the  dignity  of  the  Almighty  Arti- 
ficer, and  unequalled  by  any  other  writer.  The  fame  won- 
derful fcene  is  reprefented  by  a  Roman  poet,*  who  has  evi- 
dently drawn  his  materials  from  the  narrative  of  Mofes.  But 
though  his  defcription  is  finely  imagined  and  elegantly 
wrought  up,  and  embellifhed  with  much  poetical  ornament, 
yet  in  true  fimplicity  and  grandeur,  both  of  fentiment  and  of 
di<5lion,  he  falls  far  fliort  of  the  facred  hiftorian.  Let  there 
BE  LIGHT  AND  THERE  WAS  LIGHT;  is  au  iuftance  of  the 
fublime,  which  ftands  to  this  day  unrivalled  in  any  human 
compofition. 

But  what  is  of  infinitely  greater  moment,  his  hiftory  of  the 
creation  has  fettled  for  ever  that  moft  important  queftion, 
which  the  ancient  fages  were  never  able  to  decide ;  from 
whence  and  from  what  caufes  this  v/orld,  with  all  its  inhabi- 
tants and  appendages,  drew  its  crigin  ;  whether  from  feme 
inexplicable  neceffity,  from  a  fortuitous  concourfe  of  atoms, 
from  an  eternal  feries  of  caufes  and  effedts,  or  from  one  fu- 
preme,  intelligent,  felf-exifting  Being,  the  Author  of  all 
things,  himfelf  without  beginning  and  without  end.  To 
this  laft  caufe  the  infpired  hiftorian  has  afcribed  the  fonna- 
tion  of  this  fyftem  ;  and  by  fo  doing  has  eftablifhed  that 
great  principle  and  foundation  of  ail  religion  and  all  morali- 
ty, and  the  great  fource  of  comfort  to  every  human  being, 
the  exijlence  of  one  God,  the  Creator  and  Preferver  of  the 
world,  and  the  watchful  Superintendent  of  all  the  creatures 
that  he  has  made. 

The  Sacred  Hiftory  next  fets  before  us,  the  primeval  hap- 
pinefs  of  our  firil  parents  in  Paradife ;  their  fall  from  this 
*  Ovid. 


LECTURE    I.  17 

blifsful  ftate  by  the  wilful  tranfgreffion  of  their  Maker's  com- 
mand ;  the  fatal  eSe6ts  of  this  original  violation  of  duty  j 
the  univerfal  wickednefs  and  corruption  it  gradually  intro- 
duced among  mankind  ;  and  the  fignal  and  tremendous  pun- 
ilhment  of  that  wickednefs  by  the  deluge  ;  the  certainty  of 
^;7hich  is  acknowledged  by  the  moft  ancient  writers,  and 
very  evident  traces  of  which  are  to  be  found  at  this  day  in 
various  parts  of  the  globe.  It  tlien  relates  the  peopling  of 
the  world  again  by  the  family  of  Noah  ;  the  covenant  enter- 
ed into  by  God  with  that  patriarch,  the  relapfe  of  mankind 
into  wickednefs  ;  the  calling  of  Abraham  ;  and  the  choice 
of  one  family  and  people,  the  Ifraelites  (or,  as  they  were 
afterwards  called,  the  Jews)  who  were  feparated from  the  reft 
of  the  world  to  preferve  the  knowledge  and  the  woi-fliip  of  a 
Supreme  Being,  and  the  great  fundamental  dodrine  of  the 
Unity  ;  v/hile  all  the  reil  of  mankind,  even  the  wifeft  and 
moft  learned,  were  devoted  to  polytheifm  and  idolatry,  and 
the  grofTeft  and  moft  abominable  fuperftitions.  It  then  gives 
us  the  hiftory  of  this  people,  with  their  various  migrations, 
revolutions,  and  principal  tranfadions.  It  recounts  their  re- 
moval from  the  land  of  Canaan,  and  their  eftablifhment  in 
Egypt  under  Jofeph  ;  v/hofe  hiftory  is  related  in  a  manner  fo 
natural,  fo  interefting  and  affefting,  that  it  is  impoflible  for 
any  man  of  common  fenfibility  to  read  it  vrithout  the  ftrong- 
eft  emotions  of  tendemefs  and  delight. 

In  the  book  of  Exodus  we  have  the  deliverance  of  this 
people  from  tlieir  bondage  in  Egypt,  by  a  feries  of  the  moft 
aftoniftiing  miracles  ;  and  their  travels  through  the  wilder- 
nefs  for  forty  years  under  the  condudl  of  Mofes  ;  during 
•which  time  (befides  many  other  rules  and  diredions  for  their 
moral  condu6t)  they  received  the  Ten  Commandments,  WTit- 
ten  on  two  tables  of  ftone  by  the  finger  of  God  himfeif,  and 
delivered  by  him  to  Mofes  v/ith  the  moft  av^ful  and  tremend- 
ous folemnity ;  containing  a  code  of  moral  law  infinitely 
fuperior  to  any  thing  knov/n  to  the  reft  of  mankind  in  thofe 
rude  and  barbarous  ages. 

The  books  of  Leviticus,  Numbers,  and  Deuteronomy, 
are  chiefly  occupied  with  the  various  other  laws,  inftitutions, 
and  regulations  given  to  this  people,  refpeding  their  civil 

C 


18  LECTURE!. 

\ 

government,    their  moral   condud,    their   religious   duties^' 
and  their  ceremonial  obfervances. 

Among  thefe,  the  book  of  Deuteronomy  (which  concludes 
■what  is  called  the  Pentateuch,  or  five  books  of  Mofes)  is  dif- 
tinguilhed  above  all  the  relVby  a  concife  and  ftriking  recapit- 
ulation of  the  innumerable  blefiings  and  mercies  which  the/ 
had  received  from  God  fmce  their  departure  from  Horeb  ; 
by  ftrong  expoftulations  on  their  pad  rebellious  condudl,  and 
their  fhameful  ingratitude  for  all  thefe  diftinguifhing  marks 
of  the  Divine  favor ;  by  many  forcible  and  pathetic  exhort- 
ations to  repentance  and  obedience  in  future  ;  by  promifes 
of  the  moPi  fubftantial  rewards,  if  they  returned  to  their 
duty  ;  and  by  denunciations  of  the  feverefl  punilhments,  if 
they  continued  difobedient ;  and  all  this  delivered  in  a  ftrain 
of  the  moil  animated,  fublime,  and  commanding  eloquence. 

The  hiftorical  books  of  Jofhua,  Judges,  Samuel,  Kings, 
and  Chronicles,  continue  the  hiftory  of  the  Jewifh  nation 
under  their  leaders,  judges,  and  kings,  for  near  a  thoufand 
years  ;  and  one  of  the  moft  prominent  and  inftrudive  parts 
of  this  hiftory  is  the  account  given  of  the  life  and  reign  of 
Solomon,  his  wealth,  his  power,  and  all  the  glories  of  his 
reign  ;  more  paiticularly  that  noble  proof  he  gave  of  his 
piety  and  munificence,  by  the  conftrudion  of  that  truly 
magnificent  temple  which  bore  his  name  ;  the  folemn  and 
fplendid  dedication  of  this  temple  to  the  fervice  of  God  ; 
and  that  inimitable  prayer  which  he  then  offered  up  to  Heav- 
en in  the  prefence  of  the  whole  Jewifh  people  ;  a  prayer  evi- 
dently coming  from  the  heart,  fublime,  fimple,  nervous, 
and  pathetic ;  exhibiting  the  jufteft  and  the  warmeft  fenti- 
ments  of  piety,  the  moft  exalted  conceptions  of  the  Divine 
nature,  and  every  way  equal  to  the  fandity,  the  dignity, 
and  the  folemnity  of  the  occafion. 

Next  to  thefe  follow  the  books  of  Ezra  and  Nehemiah, 
■which  contain  the  hiftory  of  the  Jews  for  a  confiderable  pe- 
riod of  time  after  their  return  from  a  captivity  of  70  years 
in  Babylon,  about  which  time  the  name  of  Jews  feems  firft 
to  have  been  applied  to  them.  The  books  of  Ruth  and 
Efther  are  a  kind  of  appendage  to  the  public  records,  delin- 
eating the  characters  of  two  ■very  amiable  individuals,  difr 
tinguifhed  by  their  virtues,  and  the  very  interefting  incidents 


LECTURED  IS 

which  befel  them,  the  one  In  private,  the  other  in  public 
life,  and  which  were  In  feme  degree  conneded  with  the 
honor  and  profperity  of  the  nation  to  which  they  belonged. 

In  the  book  of  Job  we  have  the  hiftory  of  a  perfonage  of 
high  rank,  of  remote  antiquity,  and  extraordinary  virtues  5 
rendered  remarkable  by  uncommon  viciffitudes  of  fortune, 
by  the  moft  fplendid  profperity  at  one  time,  by  an  accumu- 
lation of  the  heavieft  calamities  at  another  ;  conduding  him- 
felf  under  the  former  with  moderation,  uprightnefs,  and  un- 
bounded kindnefs  to  the  poor  ;  and  under  the  latter,  with 
the  moft  exemplary  patience  and  refignation  to  tlie  will  of 
Heaven.  The  compofition  is  throughout  the  greater  part 
highly  poetical  and  figurative,  and  exhibits  the  nobleft  re- 
prefentations  of  the  Supreme  Being  and  a  fuperlntending 
Providence,  together  with  the  moft  admirable  leifons  of  for- 
titude and  fubmifllon  to  the  will  of  God  under  the  fevereft 
afflidions  that  can  befall  human  nature.  The  Pfalms,  which 
follow  tills  book,  are  full  of  fuch  exalted  ftrains  of  piety  and 
devotion,  fuch  beautiful  and  animated  dcfcriptions  of  the 
power,  the  wifdom,  the  mercy,  and  the  goodnefs  of  God,  that 
it  is  impoftible  for  any  one  to  read  tliem  without  feeling  his 
heart  inflamed  with  the  moft  ardent  afreiftion  tovs^ards  the 
great  Creator  and  Governor  of  the  univeife. 

The  Proverbs  of  Solomon,  which  come  next  In  order, 
contain  a  variety  of  very  excellent  maxims  of  wifdom,  and 
invaluable  rules  of  life,  which  have  no  where  been  exceeded 
except  in  the  New-Teftament.  They  afford  us,  as  they  pro- 
fefs  to  do  at  their  very  firft  outfet,  "  the  inftruclion  of  wif- 
dom, juftice,  judgment,  and  equity.  They  give  fubtility  to 
the  fimple  ;  to  the  young  man,  knowledge  and  difcretion." 

The  fame  may  be  faid  of  the  greater  part  of  the  book  of 
Ecclefiaftes,  which  alfo  teaches  us  to  form  a  juft  eftirnate  of 
this  world,  and  its  feeming  advantages  of  wealth,  honor» 
power,  pleafure,  and  fcience. 

The  prophetical  v/rltlngs  prefent  us  with  the  worthieft  and 
moft  exalted  ideas  of  the  Almighty,  the  jufteft  and  piueft 
notions  of  piety  and  virtue,  the  awfulleft  denunciations 
againft  wickednefs  of  every  kind,  public  and  private  j  the 


20  LECTURE!. 

moll  affedlionate  expoftulations,  the  moft  inviting  promifes, 
and  the  warmefl  concern  for  the  public  good.  And  befides 
all  this,  they  contain  a  feries  of  predictions  relating  to  our, 
ble/Ted  Lord,  in  which  all  the  remarkable  circumftances  of 
his  birth,  life,  m.inillry,  miracles,  dod:rines,  fufferings,  and 
death,  are  foretold  in  fo  minute  and  exaft  a  manner  (more 
particularly  in  the  prophecy  of  Ifaiah)  that  you  would  al- 
moft  think  they  were  defcribing  all  thefe  things  after  they  !had 
happened,  if  3''ou  did  not  know  that  thefe  prophecies  were 
confeflediy  v/ritten  many  hundred  years  before  Chrift  came 
into  the  world,  and  were  all  that  time  in  the  polTeffion  of  the 
Jews,  who  were  the  mortal  enemies  of  Chriftianity,  and 
therefore  would  never  go  about  to  forge  prophecies,  which 
moft  evidently  prov6  him  to  be  what  he  profeifed  to  be,  and 
what  they  denied  h^m  to  be,  the  Meffiah  and  the  Son  of  God. 
It  is  to  this  part  of  fcripture  that  our  Lord  particularly  di- 
rects our  attention,  when  he  fays,  "  fearch  the  Scriptures, 
for  they  are  they  that  teftify  of  me."*  ThA^teftimony  he 
alludes  to  is  that  of  the  prophets ;  tlian  which  no  evidence 
can  be  more  fatisfadory  and  convincing  to  any  one  that  reads 
them  with  care  and  impartiality,  and  compares  their  predic- 
tions concerning  our  Saviour  with  the  hiftory  of  his  life, 
given  us  by  thofe  who  conftantly  lived  and  converfed  with 
him.  This  hiftory  we  have  in  the  New  Teftament,  in  that 
part  of  it  which  gees  by  the  name  of  Gospels. 

It  is  thefe  that  recount  thofe  Avonderful  and  important 
events  with  which  the  Chriftian  religion  and  the  divine  Au- 
thor of  it  were  introduced  into  tlie  world,  and  which  have 
produced  fo  great  a  change  in  the  principles,  the  manners, 
the  morals,  and  the  temporal  as  well  as  the  fpiritual  condi- 
tion of  mankind.  They  relate  the  firft  appearance  of  Chrift 
upon  earth ;  his  extraordinary  and  miraculous  birth  ;  the 
tefdmon^r  borne  to  him  by  his  forerunner  John  the  Baptift  j 
his  temptation  in  the  wildeniefs  ;  the  opening  of  his  divine 
commiiTion  ;  the  pure,  the  perfed,  the  fublim.e  morality 
which  he  taught,  efpecially  in  his  inimitable  fermon  from  the 
mount ;  the  infinite  fuperiority  which  he  fhewed  to  every 
ot'.er  moral  teacher,  both  in  the  matter  and  manner  of  his 
difcourfes  ;  more  particularly  by  crufhing  vice  in  its  very 

*  John  V,  39, 


L  E  C  T.U  R  E     L  21 

cradle.  In  the  firft  rifings  of  wicked  defires  and  propenfities 
in  the  heart ;  by  giving  a  decided  preference  of  the  mild, 
gentle,  paffive,  conciliating  virtues,  to  that  violent,  vin- 
di(5^ive,  high-fpirited,  unforgiving  temper,  which  has  been 
always  too  much  the  favorite  charafter  of  the  world ;  by 
requiring  us  to  forgive  our  very  enemies,  and  to  do  good  to 
them  that  hate  us  ;  by  excluding  from  our  devotions,  our 
alms,  and  all  our  other  virtues,  all  regard  to  fame,  reputa- 
tion, and  applaufe  ;  by  laying  down  two  great  general  prin- 
ciples of  morality,  love  to  God  and  love  to  mankind,  and 
deducing  from  thence  every  other  human  duty ;  by  convey- 
ing his  inftrudlions  under  the  eafy,  familiar,  and  impreffive 
form  of  parables  ;  by  expreffing  himfelf  in  a  tone  of  dignity 
and  authority  unknown  before  ;  by  exemplifying  every  vir- 
tue that  he  taught  in  his  own  unblemifhed  and  perfect  life 
and  converfation ;  and  above  all,  by  adding  thofe  awful 
fan<5lions,  which  he  alone,  of  all  moral  inftrudlors,  had  the 
power  to  hold  out,  eternal  rewards  to  the  virtuous,  and 
eternal  puniftiments  to  the  wicked.  The  facred  narrative 
then  reprefents  to  us  the  high  chara<5ler  he  alliimed  ;  the 
claim  he  made  to  a  divine  original ;  the  wonderful  miracles 
he  wrought  in  proof  of  his  divinity ;  the  various  prophecies 
which  plainly  marked  him  out  as  the  Mcffiah,  the  great  de- 
liverer of  the  Jews  ;  the  declarations  he  made,  that  he  came 
to  offer  himfelf  a  facrifice  for  the  fms  of  all  mankind  ;  the 
cruel  indignities,  fufferings,  and  perfecutions,  to  which,  in 
confequence  of  this  great  defign,  he  was  expofed ;  the  ac- 
complifhment  of  it  by  the  painful  and  ignominious  deatli  to 
whicii  he  fubmitted  ;  by  his  refurredion  after  tliree  days 
from  the  grave  ;  by  his  afcenfion  into  heaven ;  by  hisTitting 
there  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  and  performing  the  office 
of  a  mediator  and  an  intercefTor  for  the  fniful  fons  of  men, 
till  he  comes  a  fecond  time  in  4iis  glory  to  fit  in  judgment 
on  all  mankind,  and  decide  their  final  doom  of  happinefs  or 
mifery  for  ever. 

Thefe  are  the  momentous,  the  interefting  truths,  on  v/hich 
the  Gospels  principally  dwell. 

The  Acts  of  the  Apostles  continue  the  hiftory  of  our 
religion  after  our  Lord's  afcenfion  ;  the  aftonifliing  and  rapid 


f2  LECTURE!. 

propagation  of  it  by  a  few  illiterate  tent-makers  and  fifher- 
men,  through  almoft  every  part  of  the  world,  "  by  demon- 
ftration  of  the  fpirit  and  of  power  ;"  without  the  aid  of  elo- 
quence or  of  force,  and  in  oppofition  to  all  the  authority,  all 
the  power,  and  all  the  influence  of  the  opulent  and  the 
great. 

The  Epistles,  that  is,  the  letters  addrefled  by  the  Apof- 
tles  and  their  aflbciates  to  different  churches  and  to  particu- 
lar individuals,  contain  many  admirable  rules  and  dire^ions 
to  the  primitive  converts ;  many  affeding  exhortations,  ex- 
poftulations,  and  reproofs  ;  many  explanations  and  illuftra- 
fions  of  tlie  do(5lrines  delivered  by  our  Lord ;  together  with 
conftant  references  to  fa<5ts,  circumftances,  and  events,  re- 
corded in  the  Gofpels  and  the  Adls  ;  in  which  we  perceive 
fuch  ftriking,  yet  evidently  fuch  unpremeditated  and  unde- 
£gned  coincidences  and  agreements  between  the  narratives 
and  the  epiftles,  as  form  one  moil  conclufive  argument  for 
the  truth,  authenticity,  and  genuinenefs  of  both.* 

The  facred  volume  concludes  with  the  Revelation  of  St. 
John,  which,  under  the  form  of  vifions  and  various  fymbol- 
ical  reprefentations,  prefents  to  us  a  prophetic  hiftory  of  the 
Chriftian  religion  in  future  times,  and  the  various  changes, 
Ticiffitudes,  and  revolutions  it  was  to  undergo  in  different 
ages  and  countries  to  the  end  of  the  world.f 

Is  it  poflible  now  to  conceive  a  nobler,  a  more  compre- 
henfive,  a  more  ufeful  fcheme  of  inftru<5lion  than  this  ;  in 
which  the  uniformity  and  variety,  fo  happily  blended  to- 
gether, give  it  an  inexpreffible  beauty,  and  the  whole  com- 
pofition  plainly  proves  its  Author  to  be  divine  ? 

"  Tlie  Bible  is  not  indeed  (as  a  great  v/riter  obferv^esj)  a 

*  See  the  Horse  Paulinas  of  Dr.  Paley. 

f  A  fuller  and  more  detailed  account  of  the  contents  of  the  feveral 
Books  of  Scripture  may  be  found  in  Mr  Gray's  Key  to  the  Old  Tef- 
lament.  Bp.  Percy's  to  the  Nenu,  and  the  Biftiop  of  Lincoln's  late  excel- 
lent work  on  the  Elements  of  CbriJIisn  Tbeoloay.  That  part  of  It  which 
relates  totho  Scriptures  has  been  lately  re-printed  for  the  accommodation 
of  the  public  at  large,  in  a  duodecimo  volume,  wliich  I  particularly  recom- 
mend to  the  attention  of  my  readers. 

JArchbilhop  Seeker,  V.  6. 


I.ECTUREI,  m 

j)lan  of  religion  delineated  with  minute  accuracy,  to  inftru<9: 
men  as  in  fomething  altogether  new,  or  to  excite  a  vain  ad- 
miration and  applaufe  ;  but  it  is  fomewhat  unfpeakably  more 
great  and  noble,  comprehending  (as  we  have  feen)  in  the 
grandeft  and  moft  magnificent  order,  along  with  every  effen- 
tial  of  that  plan,  the  various  difpenfations  of  God  to  man- 
kind, from  the  formation  of  this  earth  to  the  confummation 
of  all  things.  Oi/jer  books  may  afford  us  much  entertainment 
and  much  inftrudtion  ;  may  gratify  our  curiofity,  may  deiiglit 
our  imagination,  may  improve  our  underflandings,  may 
calm  our  paffions,  may  exalt  our  fentiments,  may  even  im- 
prove our  hearts.  But  they  have  not,  they  cannot  have 
that  authority  in  what  they  affirm,  in  what  they  require, 
in  what  they  promife  and  threaten,  that  the  Scriptures  have. 
There  is  a  peculiar  weight  and  energy  in  t/jem,  which  is  not 
to  be  found  in  any  other  ^vritings.  Then-  denunciations  are 
more  awful,  their  convidions  ftronger,  their  confolations 
more  powerful,  their  counfels  more  authentic,  their  warn- 
ings more  alarming,  their  expoftulations  more  penetratingo 
There  are  paiTages  in  them  throughout  fo  fublime,  fo  pathet- 
ic, full  of  fuch  energy  and  force  upon  the  heart  and  confcience, 
yet  without  the  leafl:  appearance  of  labour  and  ftudy  for 
that  purpofe  ;  indeed,  the  defign  of  the  whole  is  fo  noble, 
fo  well  fuited  to  the  fad  condition  of  human  kind  ;  the  mor- 
als have  in  them  fuch  purity  and  dignity  ;  tlie  doctrines,  fo 
many  of  them  above  reafon,  yet  fo  perfectly  reconcileable 
with  it ;  the  expreffion  is  fo  majeftic,  yet  familiarized  with 
filch  eafy  fimplicity,  that  the  more  we  read  and  ftudy  thefe 
writings  with  pious  difpofitions  and  judicious  attention,  the 
more  we  Ihall  fee  and  feel  of  die  hand  of  God  in  them."* 

*  That  accompliHied  fchclar  and  diftingulfhed  writer,  the  late  Sir 
William  Jones,  chief  juftice  of  Bengal,  at  the  end  of  his  Bible  wrote  the 
following  note  ;  which,  coming  from  a  man  of  his  profound^eruditioa, 
and  perfecfl  knowledge  of  the  oriental  languages,  cuftoms,  and  man- 
ners, muil  be  conudered  as  a  moft  powerful  tellimony,  not  only  to  the 
fublimity,  but  to  the  divine  infpiration  of  the  facred  writings. 

"  I  have  (fays  he)  regularly  and  attentively  read  thefe  Holy  Scriptures:, 
and  am  of  opinion,  that  this  volume,  independently  of  Its  divine  origin, 
contains  more  true  fublimity,  more  exquifite  beauty,  more  pure  morality', 
more  important  hiuory,  and  finer  ftrains  both  of  poetry  and  eloquence, 
than  can  be  collected  from  all  other  books,  in  whatever  age  or  language 
ihey  may  have  been  compofcd. 


24.  L  E  C  T  U  R  E     1. 

But  that  which  ftamps  upon  them  the  higheft  value,  that 
which  renders  them,  ftri<flly  fpeaking,  mejiimable,  and  diftin- 
guifhes  them  from  all  other  books  in  the  world,  is  this,  that 
they,  and  they  only,  "  contain  the  'words  of  eternal  life.'^'^  In 
this  refpedt,  every  other  book,  even  the  nobleft  compofitions 
of  man,  muft  fail  us  ;  they  cannot  give  us  that  which  we 
moft  want,  and  what  is  of  infinitely  more  importance  to  us 
than  all  other  things  put  together,  eternal  life. 

This  we  muft  look  for  no  where  but  in  Scripture.  It 
is  there,  and  there  only,  that  we  are  informed  from  authority, 
of  the  immortality  of  the  foul,  of  a  general  refurrection 
from  the  dead,  of  a  future  judgment,  of  a  ft  ate  of  eternal 
happinefs  to  the  good,  and  of  eternal  mifery  to  the  bad.  It 
is  there  we  are  made  acquainted  with  the  fall  of  our  firft 
parents  from  a  ftate  of  innocence  and  happinefs ;  with  the 
guilt,  con-uption,  and  mifery,  which  this  fad  event  brought 
on  all  their  pofterity ;  which,'  together  with  their  own  per- 
fonal  and  voluntary  tranfgreftions,  rendered  them  obnoxious 
to  God's  fevereft  punifliments.  But,  to  our  inexpreffible 
comfort,  we  are  further  told  in  this  divine  book,  that  God 
is  full  of  mercy,  compaffion,  and  gcodnefs  ;  that  he  is  not 
extreme  to  mark  what  is  done  am.ifs  ;  that  he  willetli  not  the 
death  of  a  fmner,  but  rather  that  he  ftiould  turn  from  his 
wickednefs,  and  fave  his  foul  alive.  In  pity  therefore  to 
mankind,  he  was  pleafed  to  provide  a  remedy  for  their  dread- 
ful ftate.  He  was  pleafed  to  adopt  a  meafure  which  ftiould 
at  once  fatisfy  his  juftice,  fliew  his  extreme  abhorrence  of 
fm,  make  a  fuScient  atonement  for  the  fms  of  the  whole 
world,  and  releafe  all  who  accepted  the  termxS  propofed  to 
them  from  the  punifhment  they  had  deferved.  This  was 
nothing  lefs  than  the  death  of  his  fon  Jefus  Chrift,  whom  he 
fent  into  the  world  to  take  our  nature  upon  him,  to  teach  us 

"  The  two  parts,  of  which  the  Scriptures  confift,  are  connedled  by  a 
cliain  of  compofitions,  which  hear  no  refcmbiance,  in  form,  or  flile,  to 
any  that  can  be  produced  from  the  ftories  of  Grecian,  Perfian,  or  even 
Arabian  learning  :  the  antiquity  of  thofc  compofitions  no  man  doubts  ; 
and  the  unflraincd  application  of  them  to  events  long  fubfequent  to  their 
publication,  m  a  folid  ground  of  belief  that  they  are  genuine  predictions, 
and  toufcquently  infpired." 

*  John,  vi.     68. 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E     L  25 

a  rriofi  holy,  pure,  and  benevolent  religion,  to  reform  u? 
both  by  his  precepts  and  example  ;  and  laftly,  to  die  for  our 
iins,  and  to  rife  again  for  our  juftification.  By  him  and  his 
evangelifts  and  apollles  we  are  allured,  that  if  we  flncerely 
repent  of  our  fms,  and  firmly  believe  in  him  and  his  Gcfpel, 
we  (hall,  for  the  fake  of  his  fufferings  and  his  righteoufnefs, 
have  all  our  tranfgreffions  forgiven  and  blotted  out,  fhall  be 
jujl'tjied,  that  is,/confidered  as  innocent  in  the  fight  of  God, 
fhall  have  the  affiftance  of  his  Holy  Spirit  for  our  future  con- 
dud  ;  and  if  we  perfevere  to  the  end  in  a  uniform  (though, 
from  the  infirmity  of  our  nature,  imperfect)  obedience  to 
all  the  laws  of  Chrift,  fhall,  through  his  merits,  be  rewarded 
with  everlafting  glory  in  the  life  to  come. 

Since  then  the  utility,  the  abfolute  necefTity  of  reading 
the  Scriptures  is  fo  great,  fmce  they  are  not  only  the  bePc 
guide  you  can  confult,  but  the  only  one  that  can  pofTibly 
lead  you  to  heaven  ;  it  becomes  the  indifpenfable  duty  of 
every  one  of  you  moft  carefully  and  conftantly  to  perufe  thefe 
facred  oracles,  that  you  may  thereby  "  become  perfed^ 
thoroughly  fumifhed  to  every  good  work."*  They  who 
have  much  leifure  fliould  employ  a  conliderable  fhare  of  it 
in  this  holy  exercife,  and  even  they  who  arc  m.oft  immerfed 
in  bufinefs  have,  or  ought  to  have,  the  Lord's  Day  entirely 
to  fpare,  and  fhould  always  employ  fome  part  of  it  (more 
particularly  at  this  holy  feafon)  in  reading  and  rneditating 
on  the  word  of  God.  By  perfevering  fteadily  in  this  prac- 
tice, any  one  may,  in  tio  great  length  of  time,  read  the 
Scriptures  through,  from  one  end  to  the  other.  But  in  doing 
this,  it  would  be  advifeable  to  begin  with  the  New  Teftament 
firft,  and  to  read  it  over  moft  frequently,  becaufe  it  concerns 
us  Chriftians  the  moft  nearly,  and  explains  to  us  more  fully 
and  more  clearly  the  words  of  eternal  life.  But  after  you 
have  once  gone  regularly  through  both  the  Old  Teftamen- 
and  the  New,  it  may  then  be  moft  ufeful,  perhaps,  to  felecr 
out  of  each  fuch  paiTages  as  lay  before  you  the  great  fundamental 
do6lrines,  and  moft  eftential  duties,  of  your  Chrift i an  pro- 
feflion  ;  and  e^en  amongft  thefe,  to  dwell  the  longeft  on 
fuch  as  exprefs  thefe  things  in  the  moft  avv-ful  and  ftriking 
manner,  fuch  as  aifecl  and  touch  you  mcft  powerfully,  fuch 
*  it  Tim.  iii.  17, 

D 


26  LECTURE     I, 

as  make  your  heart  bum  within  you,  and  ftlr  up  all  the  piou..« 
aiTeaions  in  your  foul.  But  it  will  be  of  little  ufe  to  read^  unlefs 
at  the  lame  time  alfo  you  reflet  ;  unlefs  you  apply  what  you 
read  to  thofe  great  purpofes  which  the  Scriptures  were  meant 
to  promote,  the  amendment  of  your  faults,  the  improvement 
of  your  hearts,  and  the  falvation  of  your  fouls. 

To  affift  you  In  this  moft  important  and  neceffary  work  is  the 
delign  of  thefe  Le<5lures  :  and  in.the  execution  of  this  defign 
I  fhall  have  thefe  four  objects  principally  in  view : 

Firft,  to  explain  and  illuftrate  thofe  parages  of  holy  writ, 
which  are  in  any  degree  difficult  and  obfcure. 

2dly.  To  point  out,  as  they  occur  in  the  facred  v-Titlngs, 
the  chief  leading  fundamental43rinciplesand  dodlrinesof  the 
Chriftian  religion. 

3dly.  To  confirm  and  ftrengthen  your  faltli,  by  calling 
your  attention  to  thofe  ftrong  internal  marks  of  the  truth  and 
divine  authority  of  the  Chriftian  religion,  which  prefent 
thcmfelves  to  us  in  almoft  every  page  of  the  Gofpel. 

4thly.  To  lay  before  you  the  great  moral  precepts  of  tlie 
Gofpel,  to  prefs  them  home  upon  your  confciences  and  your 
hearts,  and  render  them  effedual  to  the  important  ends  they 
were  Intended  to  ferve ;  namely,  the  due  government  of 
your  paffions,  the  regulation  of  your  condudl:,  and  the  attain- 
ment of  everlafting  life* 

Thefe  are  all  of  them  objefls  of  the  very  laft  importance  5 
they  are  worthy  the  attention  of  every  human  being ;  and 
they  will,  I  think,  be  better  attained  by  a  familiar  and  pradli- 
cal  explanation  of  tlie  facred  writings,  than  by  any  other 
fpecies  of  compofition  whatever. 

The  plan  of  inftru6lion  adopted  by  our  bfeffed  Lord  was 
unqueftlonably  the  very  beft  that  could  be  devifed.  It  was 
not  a  regular  fyftem  of  ethics,  delivered  in  a  conne(5led  feries 
of  dry  elTays  and  differtations,  like  thofe  of  the  ancient  hea- 
then philofophers  ;  but  it  confided  of  famihar  dlfcourfes, 
interclting  parables,  fhort  fententlous  maxirns,  and  occafional 
refledtions,    arifmg  from  the  common  occurrences  of  life,. 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E     I.  27 

and  the  moft  obvious  appearances  of  nature.  All  thefa 
various  modes  of  mll:ru6tion  are  fo  judiciouily  blended  and 
mixed  together  in  the  hiftory  of  our  Lord's  life  and  conver- 
fation,  delivered  to  us  in  the  Gofpel  (as  all  the  various  forts 
of  pleafing  objetfls  are  in  the  unornamented  fcenes  of  nature) 
that  they  make  a  much  deeper  impreffion  both  on  the  under- 
ftanding  and  on  the  heart,  than  they  could  poffibiy  do  in 
any  other  more  artificial  form. 

An  expofition  of  Scripture,  then,  raufi:  at  all  times  be  highly 
nifeful  and  interefting  to  every  fincere  difciple  of  Chriil ;  but 
muft  be  peculiarly  fo  at  the  prefent  moment,  when  fo  much 
pains  have  been  taken  to  ridicule  and  revile  the  facred  wri- 
tings, to  fubvert  the  very  foundations  of  our  faidi,  and  to 
poifon  the  minds  of  all  ranks  of  people,  but  efpecially  the 
middling  and  the  lower  claffes,  by  the  moft  impious  and 
blafphemous  publications  that  ever  difgraced  any  Chriftlan 
country.*  To  refift  thefe  wicked  attempts  is  the  duty  of 
every  miniiler  of  the  Gofpel ;  and  as  I  have  ftrongly  exhort- 
ed all  thofe  who  are  under  my  fuperintendence,  to  exert 
themfelves  with  zeal  and  with  vigour  in  defence  of  their 
infulted  religion,  I  think  it  incumbent  on  me  to.  take  my 
{hare  in  this  important  conteft,  and  to  (hew  that  I  v/iih  not 
to  throw  burthens  on  others  of  which  I  am  not  willing  to 
bear  my  full  proportion.  As  long  therefore  as  my  health, 
and  the  various  duties  of  an  extenhve  and  populous  dioceief 
will  permit,  and  the  exigencies  of  the  times  require  fuch  e\-- 
ertions,  I  propofe  to  continue  annually  thefe  Le6i:ures.  And 
I  fliall  think  it  no  unbecoming  conclufion  of  my  life,  if  thefe 
labours  of  my  declining  years  fhould  tend  in  any  degree  to 
render  the  Holy  Scriptures  more  clear  and  intelligible,  more 
ufeful  and  delightful ;  if  they  fhajl  confirm  the  faith,  reform 
the  manners,  confole  and  revive  tne  hearts  of  thofe  who  hear 
me ;  and  vindicate  the  honor  of  our  divine  Mafcer  from 
thofe  grofs  indignities  and  infults,  which  have  of  late  been 
io  indecently  and  impiouily  thrown  on  him  and  his  religion. 

*  About  this  time,  and  for  fome  years  before,  The  Age  of  E.eafon,  and 
©ther  peftilent  \vritin<;s  of  the  fame  nature,  werjs  diffeminated  through. 
almoft  every  diilrid  of  this  country  with  incredible  induUrr, 


..^^<..<..<.,<.,<..<.,<..<..<..<.^..<"<.<.-<"<"<-<-<"<"<-<"<"<>">->->">">->">'>->">- >••>••>••>•■>••>••>■■>••>•>>•' 


LECTURE     11. 


MATTHEW  ii. 


H 


AVING  in  the  preceding  Ledture  taken  a  fhort 
comprehenfive  view  of  the  feveral  books  of  the  facred 
volume,  I  now  proceed  to  the  Gofpel  of  St.  Matthew  ;  and 
ihall  in  this  Ledlure  confine  myfelf  to  the  two  fiift  chapters 
of  that  book,* 

The  hiftory  of  our  Saviour*s  birth,  life,  do£lrines,  pre- 
cepts, and  miracles,  is  contained  in  four  books  or  narratives 
called  Gofpels,  written  at  different  times,  and  by  four  differ- 
ent perfons,  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke,  and  John,  who  were 
among  the  firft  converts  to  Chriftianity,  and  perfectly  well 
acquainted  with  the  fadts  they  relate  ;  to  which  two  of  them 
were  eye-witnelTes,  and  the  other  two  conftant  compan- 
ions of  thofe  who  were  fo,  from  whom  they  received  immedi- 
ately every  thing  they  relate.  This  is  better  authority  for 
the  truth  of  thefe  hiftorles  than  we  have  for  the  greater  part  of 
the  hiftories  now  extant,  tlie  fidelity  of  which  we  do  not  in 
the  lead  queftion.  For  few  of  our  beft  hiftories,  either  an- 
cient or  modem,  were  written  by  pei-fons  who  were  eye- 
witneiTes  of  all  the  tranfaftions  which  they  relate  ;  and  there 
is  fcarce  any  inflance  of  the  hiftory  of  the  fame  perfon  being 
written  by  four  different  contemporary  hiftorians,  all  perfedly 
agreeing  in  the  main  articles,  and  differing  only  in  a  few 
minute  particulars  of  no  moment.  This  however  we  find 
actually  done  in  the  life  of  Jefus,  which  has  been  written  by 
each  of  the  four  evangelifts,  and  it  is  a  very  ftrong  proof  of 
their  veracity.  For  let  us  confider  what  the  cafe  is,  at  this 
very  day,  in  the  affairs  of  common  life.  When  four  different 
peribns  are  called  upon  in  a  court  of  juftice  to  prove  tlie 

*  For  fome  very  valuable  obfervations  in  fome  parts  of  this,  and  the 
third  and  thirteenth  Ledure,  I  am  indebted  to  nny  late  excelknt  frieo4 
and  patroHj  Arch-bifhop  Seeker, 


50  L  E  C  T  U  R  E    IL 

reality  of  any  particular  fzSi  that  happened  twenty  or  thirty 
years  ago,  Vv^hat  is  the  fort  of  evidence  which  they  ufually 
give  ?  Why,  in  all  the  great  leading  circumftances  which 
tend  to  ellabliih  the  fafl  in  queftion,  they  in  general  perfeflly 
agree.  In  a  few  other  points  perhaps  they  differ.  But  then 
thefe  are  points  which  do  not  at  all  affed  the  main  queftion, 
which  were  too  trifling  to  make  much  impreffion  at  the  time 
on  the  memory  of  the  obfervers,  and  which  therefore  they 
would  all  relate  with  fome  little  variation  in  their  account. 
This  is  precifely  the  cafe  with  the  writers  of  the  four  Gof. 
pels ;  and  this  fubftantial  coincidence  and  accidental  varia- 
tion has  much  more  the  air  and  garb  of  truth,  than  where 
there  is  a  perfe<5i:  agreement  in  every  the  minuteft  article  ; 
which  has  too  much  the  appearance  of  a  concerted  ftory. 

That  the  bocks  which  we  now  have  under  the  names  of 
Matthew,  Mark,  Luke,  and  John,  were  written  by  tlie  per- 
fons  whofe  names  they  bear,  cannot  admit  the  fmallefl  doubt 
with  any  unprejudiced  mind.  They  have  been  acknov/ledged 
as  fuch  by  every  Chriftian  church  in  every  age,  from  the 
time  cf  our  Saviour  to  this  moment.  There  are  allufions  to 
them,  or  quotations  from  them,  in  the  earlieft  writers,  as  far 
back  as  the  age  of  the  apoftles,  and  continued  down  in  a 
regular  fuccelT.on  to  the  prefent  hour  ;  a  proof  of  authen- 
ticity, v/hich  fcarce  any  other  ancient  book  in  the  world  can 
produce.  They  were  received  as  genuine  hiftories,  not  only 
by  the  firft  Chriftians,  but  by  the  fxrfl  enemies  of  Chriftianity, 
and  their  autliority  was  never  quefticned  either  by  the  ancient 
heathens  or  Jews.* 

The  firft  of  thefe  Gofpels  is  that  of  St.  Matthew.  It  v/as 
written  probably  at  the  lateft  not  mere  than  fifteen  years, 
fome  think  only  eight  years,  after  our  Lord's  afcenfion. 
The  author  of  it  v/as  an  apoftle  and  conftant  companion  of 
Jefus,  and  cf  courfe  an  eye-witnefs  of  every  thing  he  relates* 
He  was  called  by  our  bleiTed  Lord  from  a  moft  lucrative  oc- 
cupation, that  cf  a  collector  of  the  public  revenue,  to  be 
one  of  his  difciples  and  friends  :  a  call  which  he  immediately 

*  Whoever  wifhes  for  further  fatisfa£lion  on  this  moft  important  fub- 
je6l,  will  net  fail  of  Ending  it  in  Dr.  Gardner's  learned  work,  The  Credibility 
\f  the  Go/pel  Hif.ory,  whcrc  this  qucftion  ha?  been  very  ably  treated,  aud 
the  authenticity  pf  the  Gofpels  cftablilhcd  on  the  nioft  Iblid  grounds. 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E     11.  SI 

obej-ed,  relinquifliing  every  thing  tliat  vrzs  dear  and  valuabk 
to  him  in  the  prefent  life.  This  is  a  facrince  which  few  peo- 
ple have  made  for  the  fake  of  religion,  and  had  St. 
Matthew's  objed  been  the  applaufe  of  men,  he  might  have 
difplayed  the  merits  of  this  facrifice  in  a  light  very  favorable 
to  himfelf.  Bat  the  apoftle,  ccnfcious  of  much  nobler 
views,  defcribes  this  tranfaftion  in  the  flmplefl:  and  raoft  art- 
lefs  words.  "  As  Jefus,'*  fays  he,  "  paiTed  forth  from  thence, 
he  faw  a  man  named  Matthew,  fitting  at  the  receipt  of  cuftom, 
and  he  faith  unto  him.  Follow  me :  and  he  arofe  and  fol- 
lowed him." 

The  firft  thing  that  occurs  in  the  Gofpel  of  St.  Matthew, 
is  the  genealogy  of  Chrill,  in  order  to  prove  that  he  was 
defcended  from  the  houfe  and  family  of  David,  as  the  pro- 
phets foretold  he  Ihould  be. 

In  tliis  genealogy  there  are"  confeiTedly  fome  difficulties>  at 
which  we  cannot  be  much  furprifed,  when  we  confider  of 
what  prodigious  antiquity  this  genealogy  is,  going  back  fome 
thoufands  of  years  ;  and  when  we  know  too  that  feveral  Jewifh 
perfons  had  the  fame  name,  and  that  the  fame  perfon  had 
different  names,  (efpecially  under  the  Babyloniih  captivity) 
which  is  ftill  the  cafe  in  India,  and  ether  parts  of  Afia. 
This  muft  neceflarily  create  fome  perplexity,  efpecially  at  fuch 
a  diftance  as  we  are  from  the  firft  fources  of  information. 
But  to  the  Jews  themfelves  at  the  tim.e,  there  were  probably  no 
difficulties  at  all ;  and  it  does  not  appear  that  they  (who 
were  certainly  the  beft  judges  of  the  quellion)  made  any 
objeftion  to  this  genealogy  of  Chriil,  or  denied  him  to  be 
defcended  from  tlie  family  of  David.  We  may  therefore 
reafonably  conclude,  that  his  defcent  was  originally  admit- 
ted to  be  fairly  made  out  by  the  evangeiiils,  whatever  obfcu- 
rities  may  have  arifen  fmee.  Indeed  it  is  highly  probable,, 
that  this  genealogy  was  taken  from  fome  public  records  or 
regiiters  of  the  ancient  Jewilh  families,  which  is  very  evident 
from  Jofephus  that  the  3ev/s  had,  efpecially  with  regard  to 
the  lineage  of  David,  and  which  were  univerfally  known 
and  acknowledged  to  be  authentic  documents.  I  thaii  tiiere- 
fore  only  obferve  further  on  this  head,  that  St.  Mattliew 
gives  the  pedigree  of  Jofeph,  and  St:.  Luke  tliat  of  Mary. 


^2  L  E  C  T  U  R  E     It 

But  they  both  come  to  the  fame  thing,  becaufe  among  the 
Jews  the  pedigree  of  the  huftand  was  confidered  as  the  legal 
pedigree  of  the  wife ;  and  as  Mary  and  Jofeph  were  nearly 
related,  and  were  of  the  fame  tribe  aiid  family,  their  gene- 
alogies of  courfe  mull  run  nearly  in  the  fame  line. 

After  the  genealogy  of  Chrift,  follows  an  account  of  his 
birth,  which,  as  we  may  eafily  fuppofe  of  fo  extraordinary  a 
perfon,  had  fomething  in  it  very  extraordinary.  Accord- 
ingly the  evangelift  tells  us,  "  that  the  angel  of  the  Lord 
appeared  unto  Jofeph  in  a  dream,"  faying,  "Jofeph,  thou 
fon  of  David,  fear  not  to  take  unto  thee  Mary  thy  wife, 
for  that  which  is  conceived  in  her  is  of  the  Holy  Ghoft  :  and 
ihe  fhall  bring  forth  a  fon,  and  thou  fhalt  call  his  name  Jefus 
(that  is  a  Saviour;)  for  he  fhall  fave  his  people  from  their 
lins."* 

This  undoubtedly  was  a  moft  wonderful,  and  lingular,  and 
unexampled  event.  But  it  was  natural  to  imagine,  that 
when  the  Son  of  God  was  to  appear  upon  the  fcene,  he 
would  enter  upon  it  in  a  way  fomewhat  different  from  the 
fons  of  men.  And  in  faft  we  find  him  appearing  upon  earth 
in  a  manner  perfectly  new,  and  peculiar  to  himfelf ;  in  a 
manner  which  united  in  itfelf  at  once  the  evidence  of  prophe- 
cy and  of  miracle.  He  was  born  of  a  virgin,  and  what  is 
no  lefs  wonderful,  it  was  predided  of  him  feven  hundred 
years  before  that  he  fhould  be  fo  bom.  "  Behold,"  fays 
Ifaiah,  "  a  virgin  fhall  conceive  and  bear  a  fon,  and  they 
Ihall  call  his  name  Immanuel  ;"t  a  Hebrew  word,  fignify- 
ing,  God  ivith  us.  What  man,  but  a  prophet,  infpired  of 
God,  could  have  forefeen  an  event  fo  completely  improba- 
ble, and  apparently  impoffible  ?  What  impoftor  would  have 
hazarded  luch  a  prediftion  as  this  ?  and,  what  is  ftill  of  more 
importance,  what  impoftor  could  have  fulfilled  it  ?  What 
lefs  than  the  power  of  God  could  have  enabled  Jefus  to  fulfil 
it  ?  By  that  power  he  did  fulfil  it.  He  only,  of  the  whole 
human  race,  did  fulfil  it,  and  thus  proved  himfelf  to  be  at 
the  very  moment  of  his  birth,  what  the  whole  courfe  of  his  fu- 
ture life,  his  deathj  his  refurreftion,  and  his  afcenllon  into 
heaven,  farther  declared  him  to  be,  the  Son  of  God. 

*  Matt.  J,  20.  f  Ifaiah,  vii.  14. 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E     IL  ^3 

And  asfuch  he  was  foon  acknowledged,  and  due  homage 
paid  to  his  divinity  by  a  very  fmgular  embafly,  and  in  a  very 
fmgular  manner.  F6r  the  evangelift  proceeds  to  tell  us  in  the 
beginning  of  the  fecond  chapter,  that  "  when  Jefus  was  boi*n 
in  Bethlehem  of  Judea,  there  came  wife  men  from  the  eaft 
to  Jerufalem,  faying,  where  is  he  that  is  bom  King  of  the 
Jews  ?  for  we  have  feen  his  ftar  in  the  eaft,  and~  are  come  to 
worfhip  him-'*  As  this  is  a  very  remarkable,  and  very  im- 
portant event,  I  fhall  employ  the  remaining  part  of  this 
iefture  in  explaining  it  to  you  at  large,  fubjoining  fuch  reflec- 
tions as  naturally  arife  from  it. 

The  name  of  thefe  perfons,  Vvhom  our  tranflation  calls 
*wife  men.,  is  in  the  original  magoty  in  the  Latin  lang^uaee, 
rnag't,  from  whence  is  derived  our  Englilh  word,  magicians. 
The  magi  were  a  fet  of  ancient  philofophers,  living  in  the 
eaftem  part  of  the  world,  colleded  tcgetlier  in  colleges, 
addicted  to  the  fludy  of  aftronomy,  and  other  parts  of  natural 
philofophy,  and  highly  efteemed  throughout  the  eaft,  having 
jufter  fentiments  of  God  and  bis  worfliip  than  any  of  the 
ancient  heathens  :  for  they  abhorred  the  adcraticn  of  images 
made  in  the  form  of  men  and  animals,  and  though  they  did 
reprefent  the  Deity  under  the  fymbol  of  fire  ( the  pureft  and 
moft  adlive  of  all  material  fiibftances)  yet  they  v/oi-ihipped 
one  only  God ;  and  fo  blamelefs  did  their  ftudies  and  their 
religion  appear  to  be,  that  the  prophet  Daniel,  fcrupulous 
as  he  was  to  the  hazard  of  his  life,  with  refpedt  to  tlie  Jewiih 
religion,  did  not  refufe  to  accept  the  office  which  Nebu- 
chadnezzar eave  him,  of  being;  mafter  of  the  miaffi,  and 
chief  governor  over  all  the  v/ife  men  of  BabyloUc*  They 
V7ere  therefore  evidently  the  fitteft  of  ail  the  ancient  heathens 
to  have  the  firfl  knowledge  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  of  falvation 
by  him  imparted  to  them. 

The  country  from  whence  they  came  is  only  defcribed  in 
St.  Matthew  as  lying  eaft  from  Judea,  and  therefore  might 
be  either  Perfia,  where  the  principal  refidence  of  the  mag-t 
was,  or  elfe  Arabia,  to  which  ancient  authors  fay  they  did, 
and  undoubtedly  they  eafily  might  extend  themfelves  ;  vidiich 
it  is  well  known  abounded  in  the  valuable  things  that  thej 

*  Vid.  Dan.  V.  n. 
E 


$^  L  E  C  T  U  R  E     IL 

prefents  confifled  of;  and  concerning  which  the  feventy- 
fecond  Pfalm  (plainly  fpeaking  of  theMeffiah)  fays,  "The' 
kings  of  Arabia  and  Saba,  or  Sabsa  (an  adjoining  region) 
fhall  bring  gifts  ;"  and  again,.  "  unto  him  fhall  be  given  of 
the  gold  of  Arabia*"^ 

Suppofmg  this  prophecy  of  the  Pfalmifl  to  point  out  the 
perfons  whofe  journey  the  evangelift  relates,  it  will  alfo  de- 
termine what  their  ftation  or  rank  in  life  was,  namely  kings, 
■**  the  kings  of  Arabia  and  Saba."  Of  this  clrcumftance  St, 
Matthew  fays  nothing  diredly,  but  their  offerings  are  a  fuffi- 
cient  evidence  that  their  condition  could  not  be  a  mean  one : 
and  though  there  :o  certainly  no  proof,  there  is,  on  the  other 
hand,  no  improbability,  of  their  being  lords  of  fmall  fove- 
reignties,  which  might  afford  them  a  claim,  according  to  the 
ancient  ufage  of  that  part  of  the  world,  to  the  name  of 
kings.  For  we  read  in  Scripture  not  only  of  fome  fmall* 
towns  or  trads  that  had  each  of  them  their  king,  but  of 
fome  alfo  which  could  not  be  very  large,  that  had  each  of 
them  feveral.f 

What  number  of  the  wife  men,  or  magi,  came  to  our  Lord,, 
is  entirely  unknown,  and  perhaps  that  of  three  was  imagin- 
ed for  no  other  reafon,  than  becaufe  the  gifts  which  they 
brought  were  of  three  forts.  The  occafion  of  their  coming 
is  exprefled  by  St.  Matthew  in  their  own  v/ords  :  "  Where 
is  He  that  is  born  king  of  the  Jews  ?  for  we  are  come  to 
■worfhip  him." 

That  a  very  extraordinary  perfon  was  to  appear  under 
this  character  about  that  time,  was  a  very  general  perfua- 
fion  throughout  the  eaft  ;  as  not  only  Jewifli  but  heathen  wri- 
ters tell  us,  in  conformity  with  the  New  Teftament.  And 
that  this  perfon  was  to  have  dominion  over  the  wliole  earth, 
was  part  of  that  perfuafion,  founded  on  predidlions  of  the 
cleared  import.  I  need  produce  but  one,  from  die  above- 
mentioned  72d  Pfalm,  which,  as  I  before  obferved,  plainly 
relates  to  Chrift.  "  All  kings  fhall  fall  down  before  him  ; 
all  nations  fliall  do  him  fervice."  There  were  Jews  enough 
even  in  Perfia,  and  much  more  in  Arabia,  to  propagate  this 
doctrine,  and  fhew  it  to  be  contained  in  their  facred  books  ; 
*  Jolh.  X  S'  t  Jerem.  xxv.  20 — »4, 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E     11.  SS 

from  whence  therefore  the  wife  men  may  well  be  fuppofed 
to  have  received  it. 

But  their  knowledge  that  he  was  adliially  bom,  miift  ftand 
on  fome  other  foundation  ;  and  what  that  was,  themfelves 
declare,  "  We  have  feen  his  ftar  in  the  eaO;."*  This  muft 
plainly  mean  fome  new  appearance  in  the  Iky,  which  they, 
whofe  profeflion  (as  is  well  known)  led  them  peculiarly  to 
the  ftudy  of  aftronomy,  had  obferved  in  the  heavens.  Now 
any  appearance  of  a  body  of  light  in  the  air,  is  called  by 
the  Greek  and  Latin  authors  a  Jlar,  though  it  be  only  a 
meteor,  that  is,  a  tranfient  accidental  luminous  vapor,  nei- 
ther of  confiderable  height,  nor  long  continuance ;  in  which 
fenfe  alfo  the  Scripture  fpeaks  o£  ftars  falling  from  Heaven.^ 
And  fuch  was  that  which  the  wife  men  faw,  as  will  appear 
from  a  circumftance  to  be  mentioned  hereafter.  Poffibly 
indeed  the  firfl:  light  which  furprized  them,  m.ight  be  that 
mentioned  by  St.  Luke,  when  the  glory  of  the  Lord  defcend- 
ing  from  Heaven,  fhone  round  about  the  Ihepherds,  and  his 
angel  came  upon  them,  to  bring  them  the  news  of  our 
Saviour's  nativity. :]:  For  that  glory,  feen  at  a  diftance,  migiit 
have  the  appearance  of  a  ftar  ;  and  their  feeing  the  ftar  in 
the  eafly  is  not  to  be  underftood  as  if  they  faw  it  to  the  eaft- 
ward  of  themfelves ;  but  means,  that  they  being  eallward 
of  Judea,  faw  the  (lar,  feeraing  probably  to  hang  over  that 
country. 

Now  fuch  an  uncommon  fight  alone,  fuppoflng  their  ex- 
pe(5tation  of  him  raifed  (as  there  was  then  a  general  expec- 
tation of  him)  might  naturally  incline  them  to  think  he  v/as 
come  ;  and  efpecially  as  it  was  a  current  opinion  amongft 
perfons  profeffing  Ikill  in  thefe  matters,  that  the  fhining  forth 
of  a  new  ftar  denoted  the  rife  of  a  new  kingdom,  or  of  a 
great  and  extraordinary  prince  ;  whence,  as  Pliny  relates,  || 
Auguftus  tlie  Roman  emperor  faid,  that  the  comet  which 
appeared  on  Casfar's  death,  Vv-hom  he  fucceeded,  was  bora 
for  him,  and  that  he  vras  bom  in  that  comet ;  for  fo  it  feems 
he  exprefled  himfelf. 

*  Mattb.  li.  a.  f  Matf.  xxlv-  29.     Mark,  xm-  aj*. 

\  Luke,  ii,  9.  ij  Vid.   Plin.  Nat,  Hiii.  L.  ii   Ch,  aj. 


$6  L  E  C  T  U  R  E     II. 

This,  I  fay,  being  a  current  opinion,  the  wife  men  would 
be  apt  enough  to  conclude,  that  the  prefent  ftar  betokened 
the  birth  of  that  prince,  of  whom    (as  they  might   eafily 
have  heard)  it  had  been  fo  very  long  foretold,  "  There  Ihall 
come  a  ftar  out  of  Jacob,  and  a  fceptre  fhall  rife   out  of 
Ifrael."*     And  it  is  a  very  remarkable  circumftance,  that 
one  of  the  ancient  commentators  on  the  Timasus  of  Plato,f 
alluding  to  this  very  ftar,  exprefTes  himfelf  in  thefe  words  : 
«  There  is  a  ftill  more  venerable  and  facred  tradition,  which 
relates,  that  by  the  rifnig  of  a  certain  uncommon  ftar,  was 
foretold,  not  difeafes  or  deaths,  but  the  defcent  of  an  adora- 
ble God  for  the  falvation  of  the  human  race,  and  the  mel- 
ioration of  human   aifairs ;  which  ftar,  they  fay,  was  ob- 
fcrved  by  the  Chaldasans,  who  came  to  prefent   tlieir  offer- 
ings to  the  new-born  God."}: 

On  their  arrival  at  Jerufalem,  and  making  the  enquiry 
they  come  for,  Kerod,  we  find,  was  trouhled,  and  all  Jerufa- 
lem with  him.     That  fo  jealous  a  tyrant  as  Herod  fhould 
be  troubled  at  this  event  is  no  v/onder  ;  and  it  is  no  iefs  na- 
tural that  the  people  alfo  ftiould  be  difturbed  and  alarmed, 
not  knowing  what  the  confequences  of  fo  extraordinary  a 
birth  might  be.      Herod,  therefore,  calls  the  chief  pricfts 
and   fcribes  together,    and  demands  of   them,    whether  it 
were  kno-v.v;n  where   the  Christ  ftiould  be  bom  ;    and  hav- 
ing learnt  from  them,  that,  according  to  the  prophet  Micah, 
Bethlehem  was  the  place  appointed  by  Heaven,  fends  the 
wife  men  thither  with  a  requeft  that  they  would  inform  him 
when  they  had  found  the  child,  that  he  alfo  might  go  and 
pay  him  due  homage,  intending  all  the  while  to  deftroy  him, 
when  he  had  obtained  the  requiftte  intelligence.     According- 
ly the  wife  men  proceeded  on  their  journey  from  Jerufalem 
to  Bethlehem  ;  when  the  fame  luminous  appearance,  v/hich 
they  had  obferved  in  their  ouna  country,  now  attended  them 
again  to  their  very  great  joy,  and  condu6led  them  at  lengtli 
to  the  very  houfe  where  the  child  was  ;  which  probably  (as 
is  common  in  villages)  had  no  other  houfe  contiguous  to  it, 
and  therefore  might  be  eafily  marked  by  the  fituation  of  the 
meteor. 

*  Numb.  xxlv.   17.  t  Chaloidlus. 

\  See  Brucker's  Hiftory  of  Philofophj,  v.  iii.  p.  4?^' 


LECTURE     11.  SV 

When  the  wife  men  came  into  the  houfe  and  faw  the  child, 
they  fell  down  and  worfhipped  hhn,  that  is,  bowed  and 
prcilrated  themfelves  before  him,  in  the  eaftem  manner  of 
iloing  obeifance  to  kings.  Whether  they  defigned  alfo  pay- 
ing him  religious  adoration,  or  how  dldind  a  knowledge 
had  been  given  them  of  the  nature  and  rank  of  tlie  Saviour 
of  the  world,  we  cannot  fay  ;  but  may  be  fure,  that  what 
they  believed  and  what  they  did,  was  at  that  time  fuffxcient 
to  procure  them  acceptance  with  God.  Indeed,  according 
to  the  opinion  of  fome  ancient  fathers  conceniing  their  pre- 
fents,  their  faitli  muft  have  been  very  great.  For  they  re- 
prefent  the  incenfe,  as  offered  to  our  Saviour  as  God ;  the 
gold  to  have  been  paid  as  tribute  to  a  king  ;  and  the  myrrh 
(a  principal  ingredient  ufed  in  embalming)  brought  as  an 
acknowledgment  that  he  v/as  to  die  for  men.  But  others  inter- 
pret the  fame  gifts  very  differently,  and  take  them  to  fignify 
the  three  fpiritual  offerings,  which  we  mull  all  prefent  to 
Heaven,  through  Jefus  Chrid ;  the  incenfe  to  denote  piety 
towards  God ;  the  gold,  charity  towards  our  fellow-crea- 
tures ;  and  the  myrrh,  purity  of  foul  and  body  ;  it  being 
highly  efficacious  in  preferving  them  from  corruption.  But 
though  either  or  both  thefe  notions  may  be  pioufly  and  inno- 
cently entertained,  yet  all  we  know  with  certainty  is,  that  in 
thofe  parts  of  the  world  no  one  did  then  or  does  now  appear 
before  a  prince,  without  a  fui table  prefent,  ufually  of  the 
moft  valuable  commodities  of  his  country  ;  and  that  three 
of  the  principal  produdrions  of  the  eafl,  particularly  of 
Arabia,  were  gold,  frankincenfe,  and  myrrh.    - 

How  the  wife  men  were  affeded  with  the  fight  of  fo  un- 
fpeakably  important  a  perfon,*'in  fuch  mean  circumflances ; 
or  Jofeph  and  Mary,  and  all  that  mufl  flock  around  them, 
with  fo  humble  an  addrefs  from  ftrangers  of  fuch  high  dig- 
nity ;  and  what  further  paifed  in  confequence  of  this  on  ei- 
ther  fide,  every  one  may  in  fome  degree  imagine  ;  but  no 
one  can  undertake  to  relate,  fmce  the  Gofpels  do  not.  We 
are  there  only  told,  that  thefe  refpedlable  vifitors,  having 
paid  their  duty  in  this  manner,  and  being  warned  of  God 
not  to  return  to  Herod,*  "  departed  into  their  own  country 
another  way." 

»  Matth.  ii.  12. 


38  L  E  C  T  U  R  E     II. 

Thus  ends  this  remarkable  piece  of  hiftory,  in  which  all 
the  circumflances  are  fo  perfedly  conformable  to  the  man- 
ners, the  cuftoms,  the  prevailing  opinions  and  notions  of 
thole  times,  in  which  the  narrative  is  fuppofcd  to  have  been 
\\riiten,  that  they  tend  greatly  to  confirm  the  truth  and 
credibility  of  the  facred  hiilory.  I  have  already  in  going 
along  touched  flightly  on  fome  of  thefe  circumflances,  but  it 
may  be  ufeful  here  to  draw  them  all  into  one  point  of  view. 

1.  In  the  firfl  place,  then,  the  journey  of  thefe  wife  men, 
and  the  objeft  of  it,  namely,  to  find  out  him  who  was  born 
king  of  the  Jews,  correfponds  exadlly  to  the  information  giv- 
en by  feveral  heathen  authors,*  that  there  v/as  in  thofe  days 
a  general  expeftation  of  fome  very  extraordinary  perfonage, 
who  was  to  make  his  appearance  at  that  particular  period  of 
time,  and  in  that  particular  part  of  the  world. 

2.  If  the  birth  of  this  extraordinary  perfonage  v/as  mark- 
ed by  a  new  flar  or  meteor  in  the  heavens,  it  was  very  natur- 
al that  it  fhould  firft  ftrike  the  obfervation  of  thofe  called  the 
<ujife  men,  who  lived  in  a  country  where  the  ftars  and  the 
planets  fhone  with  uncommon  luflre,  where  the  fcience  of 
aftroncmy  was  (for  that  re^fon  perhaps)  particularly  culti- 
vated, where  it  was  the  peculiar  profefTion  of  thefe  very 
magi,  or  wife  men,  and  where  no  remarkable  appearance  in 
the  heavens  could  efcape  the  many  curious  eyes  that  Vere 
conftantly  fixed  upon  them. 

3.  The  manner  in  which  thefe  wife  men  approached  our 
I^ord,  is  precifely  that  in  which  the  people  always  addrefled 
themfclves  to  men  of  high  rank  and  dignity. 

They  nuorjhipped  him  ;  that  is,  they  proflrated  themfelves 
to  tiie  ground  before  him,  wliich  we  know  was  then  and  flill 
is  the  cuftom  of  thofe  countries. 

They  offered  prefents  to  him  ;  and  it  is  well  known,  that 
without  a  prcfent  no  great  man  was  at  that  time  or  is  now 
approached. 

Thefe  profents  were  gold,  franklncenfe,  and  myrrh  ;  and 
thefe,  as  we  have,  before  obfcrved,  were  the  natural  pi  oduc- 
*  Vxd.  Tacit  Hift.  v.   13.  Sueton.  in  viu  Vefp.   c.  4- 


LECTURE     II.  S9 

tions  of  that  country  whence  the  wife  men  are  fuppofed  to 
have  come,  namely,  Arabia  or  Sabasa. 

Even  that  dreadful  tranfadion,  which  was  the  unfortunate 
confequence  of  their  journey,  the  murder  of  the  innocents, 
€xa(5lly  correfponds  with  the  charadter  of  Herod,  who  was 
one  of  the  mofl  cruel  and  ferocious  tyrants  that  ever  difgra- 
ced  a  throne  ;  and  amongft  other  horrible  barbarities  had  put 
to  death  a  fon  of  his  own.  No  wonder  then  that  his  jeai- 
oufy  fhould  prompt  him  to  murder  a  number  of  infants,  not 
at  all  related  to  him. 

All  thefe  circumftances  concur  to  prove  that  the  facred 
hiflorians  lived  in  the  times  and  the  countries  in  which  they 
are  fuppofed  to  have  written  the  Gofpels,  and  were  perfeflly 
well  acquainted  with  every  thing  they  relate.  Had  not  this 
been  the  cafe,  they  muft  have  been  detefted  in  an  error,  in 
ibme  of  the  many  incidents  they  touched  upon,  which  yet  has 
never  happened. 

4.  It  is  alfo  in  the  lad  place  worthy  of  remark,  that  every 
thring  is  here  related  with  the  greatell  plainnefs,  brevity,  and 
limpliclty,  v/ithout  any  of  that  oftentation  and  parade  which 
we  fo  often  meet  with  in  other  authors.  Thus,  for  inftance, 
a  heathen  writer  would  have  put  a  long  and  eloquent  fpeech 
into  the  mouth  of  the  wife  men,  and  would  have  provided 
the  parents  of  the  infant  with  a  fuitable  anfwer.  He  would 
have  painted  tlie  maffacree  of  the  infants  in  the  mod  dreadful 
colours,  and  would  have  drav/n  a  moft  aifeding  pidure  of 
the  diftrefs  and  agony  of  their  afflidled  parents.  But  the 
Evangelifts  have  not  enlarged  on  thefe,  or  any  other  fimilar 
topics.  They  have  contented  themfelves  with  telling  their 
ftory  concifely  and  coldly,  with  a  bare  fmiple  recital  of  the 
facts,  without  attempting  to  work  upon  the  paflions,  or  ex^ 
cite  the  admiration  of  their  readers. 

Infant,  it  appears  from  this  and  a  variety  of  other  inftan- 
ces  of  the  fame  nature,  that  neither  fame  nor  reputation, 
nor  any  other  worldly  advantage,  had  the  lead  influence 
upon  their  hearts.  Their  fole  objeft  was  the  advancement 
of  tnith,  of  morality,  of  religion,  of  the  eternal  welfare 
and  falvation  of  mankind.     For  thefe  great  objects  thejr 


40  L  E  C  T  U  R  E     II. 

wrote,  for  thefe  they  lived,  for  thefe  they  fuffered,  and  for 
thefe  they  died ;  on  thefe  their  thoughts  were  entirely  and 
immoveably  fixed,  and  therefore  their  narratives  juftly  claim 
the  moft  implicit  belief  in  every  thing  that  relates  to  thefe 
great,  and  important,  and  interefting  fubjedls. 

Another  obfervation  which  this  part  of  the  Sacred  Hiftory 
f5jg'gefts  to  us,  is  this  ;  that  no  perfon  ever  yet  appeared  in, 
the  world  to  whom  fuch  diftinguifhed  marks  of  honor  were 
paid  from  his  birth  to  his  death,  as  our  bleifed  Lord.  We 
are  often  reproached  with  the  mean  condition  of  our  Re- 
deemer. We  are  often  told,  that  He,  whom  we  have  cho« 
fen  for  our  Lord  and  Mailer,  who  is  the  objed:  of  our  adora- 
tion, and  on  whom  all  our  hopes  are  fixed,  was  the  reputed 
fon  of  a  carpenter,  lived  in  penury  and  diftrefs,  and  at  laft 
fuffered  the  ignominious  death  of  the  crofs.  All  tliis  is  true. 
But  it  is  equally  true,  that  this  man  of  indigence  and  of 
forrow  appeared  through  his  whole  life  to  be  the  peculiar  fa- 
vorite of  Heaven  ;  and  to  have  been  confidered,  not  indeed 
by  his  infatuated  countryrnen,  but  by  beings  of  a  far  fuperi- 
or  order,  the  moft  important  perfonage  that  ever  appeared 
on  this  earthly  fcene.  At  his  birth,  we  are  told,  that  the 
glory  of  the  Lord  fhone  round  about  certain  fhepherds  that 
were  then  keeping  watch  over  their  flocks  by  night ;  and 
there  was  a  multitude  of  the  heavenly  hoft,  praifmg  God 
and  faying,  "  Glory  to  God  in  the  higheft,  and  on  earth 
peace,  good-will  towards  men."* 

Not  long  after  this,  a  new  :ftar  or  meteor  appeared  in  the 
heavens  on  purpofe  to  announce  his  birth,  which  accordingly 
(as  we  have  juft  feen)  attracted  the  notice  of  thofe  illuftrious 
ftrangers,  who  came  from  a  diftant  country  to  pay  their  hom- 
v.ge  to  tne  infant  Jefus  ;  whom,  notv/ithftanding  the  humili- 
ty of  his  condition  and  of  his  habitation,  they  hailed  as  king 
ot  the  vTevv's.  At  his  baptifm,  the  heavens  were  opened  to. 
him,  and  he  faw  the  fpirit  of  God  defcendirig  like  a  dove, 
and  lighting  upon  him.f  After  his  temptation,  when  he 
had  vanqiiifhed  the  prince  of  darkncfs,  behold,  angels  came 
and  miniilered  unto  him.f  At  his  transfiguration,  his  face 
did  fliine  as  the  fun,  and  his  raiment  was  bright  as  the  light^ 
*  Lvke  ii,  14.         f  Matth.  xil,  16.         i  Macu.  iv.  u. 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E    II.  41 

and  there  appeared  Mofes  and  Elias  talking  with  him,  and 
from  the  cloud  which  overlhadowed  them,  there  came  a 
voice,  faying,  "  This  is  my  beloved  Son,  in  v/hom  I  am 
well  pleafed  ;  hear  ye  htm,''*  At  his  agony  in  the  garden, 
there  appeared  an  angel  unto  him,  ftrengthening  him.-j-  At 
his  crucifixion,  all  nature  feemed  to  be  throv/n  into  convui- 
iions  :  the  fun  was  darkened  ;  the  veil  cf  the  temple  was 
rent  in  twain,  from  the  top  to  tlie  bottom  ;  the  earth  did 
quake,  and  the  rocks  rent ;  the  graves  were  opened,  and 
gave  up  their  dead ;  and  even  the  heathen  centurion,  and 
thofe  that  were  with  him,  were  compelled  to  cry  out,  "  Tru- 
ly this  was  the  fon  of  God.":|:  Before  his  afcenfion,  he  faid 
to  his  difciples,  "  All  power  is  given  to  me  in  heaven  and  ia 
earth  ;  and  while  he  yet  blefTed  them,  h^  was  parted  from 
them,  and  carried  up  into  heaven,  and  a  cloud  received  him 
cut  of  their  fight."J  There  we  are  told  he  fitteth  at  the 
right  hand  of  God,  making  interceffion  for  the  fmful  race  of 
man,  till  he  comes  a  fecond  time  in  the  glory  of  his  Father^ 
with  all  his  holy  angels,  to  judge  the  world.  There  has 
God  "  highly  exalted  him  above  all  principalities  and  power^ 
and  might  and  dominion,  and  given  him  a  name,  which  Is 
above  every  name  ;  that  at  the  name  of  Jefus  every  knee 
fhould  bow,  of  things  in  heaven,  and  things  in  earth,  and 
things  under  the  earth  ;  and  that  every  tongue  faould  coHt 
fefs  that  Jefus  Chriil  is  Lord,  to  the  glory  of  God  the  Fa- 
ther." H 

When  all  tliefe  circumftances  are  taken  together,  v/hat  a 
magnificent  idea  do  they  prefent  to  us  of  the  humble  Jefus, 
and  how  does  all  earthly  fplendor  fade  and  die  away  under 
this  overbearing  effulgence  of  celeftial  glory  !  "VVe  need  not ' 
then  be  afhamed  either  of  the  birdi,  the  life,  or  the  death  of 
Chriil,  "  for  they  are  the  power  of  God  unto  falvation.'* 
And  if  the  great  and  the  wife  men,  whofe  hiftory  v/e  have 
been  confidering,  were  induced  by  the  appearance  of  a  new 
ftar,  to  fearch  out>  with  no  fmall  labor  and  fatigue,  the  in- 
fant Saviour  of  the  world  ;  if  they,  though  philofophers 
and  deiils  (far  different  from,  the  philofophers  and  deliis  of 
the  prefent  day)  difdained  not  to  proltrate  tliemfelves  before 

*  Matth.  xvii.  5.  f  Luke,  xxii.  43.  \  Matth.  xxvli.  54. 

5  Matth.  xxviii.   i8.     Luke,  xsiv,  ji.  ]|   Philip,  il  9 — it. 

E  2 


#Sr  LECTURE    IL 

liim,  and  prefent  to  him  the  richeft  and  the  choiceft  gifts 
they  had  to  offer ;  well  may  we,  when  this  child  of  the 
Mod  High  is  not  only  grown  to  maturity,  but  has  lived, 
and  died,  and  rifen  again  for  us,  and  is  now  fet  down 
at  the  right  hand  of  God  (angels  and  principalities 
sjid  powers  being  made  fubje6t  to  him)  well  may  we  not  only 
pay  our  homage,  but  our  adoration  to  the  Son  of  God,  and 
offer  to  him  oblations  far  more  precious  than  gold,  frankin- 
cenfe  and  myrrh  ;  namely,  ourfelves,  our  fouls  and  our  bo- 
dies, **  as  a  reafonable,  holy  and  lively  facrifice  unto  him  ;'* 
well  may  we  join  with  that  innumerable  multitude  in  heav- 
en, which  is  continually  praifmg  him  and  faying  ;  "  Blefling, 
and  honor,  and  glory  be  unto  him,  that  fitteth  upon  the 
throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb  for  ever  and  ever.''* 
*  Kev,  V.  13. 


<!!<:;'•';;>;;  ;::•:::-'•:!:;-•;;;  i"'i;:i;'<>c>c;-'«;^!-:>iSUi<>';;»:<i''0<:;''::;»i<;:K:;;K:;;i<sK-:';;;>-:2^ 


LECTURE     IIL 


MATTH.     Chap.  ill. 


HE  fubjed  of  this  ledlure  will  be  the  third  chap-- 
ter  of  Saint  Matthew,  in  which  we  have  the  hiftor}^  of  a  ve- 
ry extraordinary  perfon  called  John  the  Baptist;  to  dif- 
tinguifli  him  from  another  John  mentioned  in  the  New  Tef- 
tament,  who  was  our  Saviour's  beloved  difciple,  and  the 
author  of  the  Gofpel  that  bears  his  name ;  whence  he  is 
called  John  the  Evangelist. 

As  the  chara(5ter  of  John  the  Baptift  is  in  many  refpe^ts 
a  very  remarkable  one,  and  his  appearance  bears  a  ftrong 
teftimony  to  the  divine  miflion  of  Chrift  and  the  truth  of  his 
religion,  I  fhall  enter  pretty  much  at  large  into  the  particu- 
lars of  his  hiftory,  as  they  are  to  be  found  not  only  in  the 
Gofpel  of  St.  Matthew,  but  in  the  other  three  Evangelifts  ; 
collecting  from  each  all  the  material  circumftances  of  his 
life,  from  the  time  of  his  firft  appearance  in  the  wildernefs 
to  his  murder  by  HerodI 

St.  Matthew's  account  of  him  is  as  follows  :*  In  thofe 
days  came  John  the  Baptift,  preaching  in  the  wildernefs 
of  Judea,  and  faying,  repent  ye,  for  the  kingdom  of  heav- 
en is  at  hand.  For  this  is  he  that  was  fpoken  of  by  the" 
prophet  Ifaiah,  faying,  "  Prepare  ye  the  way  of  the  Lord, 
make  his  paths  ftraight.  And  the  fame  John  had  his  rai- 
ment of  camel's  hair,  and  a  leathern  girdle  about  his  loins, 
and  his  m.eat  was  locufts  and  wild  honey.  And  there  went 
out  to  him  Jerufalem  and  all  Judea,  and  all  the  regions 
round  about  Jordan,  and  were  baptized  of  him  in  Jordan 
confelling  their  fms." 

Here  then  we  have  a  perfon,  who  appears  to  have  been 
fent  into  the  world,  on  purpofe  to  be  the  precurfor  of  our 
*  Matth.  iii,  i— 6. 


44  LECTURE     III. 

Lord,  to  prepare  the  way  for  him  and  his  religion,  here  call- 
ed the  kingdom  of  heaven,  and  as  the  prophet  exprefles  it,  to 
make  his  paths ftraight.  This  is  a  plain  allufion  to  the  cuftom 
that  prevailed  in  eaftern  countries,  of  fending  meffengers 
and  pioneers  to  make  the  ways  level  and  ftraight  before  kings 
and  princes  and  other  great  men,  when  they  pafled  through 
the  country  v/ith  large  retinues,  and  with  great  pomp  and 
magnificence.  They  literally  lowered  mountains,  they 
raifed  valleys,  they  cut  down  woods,  they  removed  all  obfta- 
cles,  they  cleared  away  all  roughnefles  and  inequalities,  and 
made  every  thing  fmooth  and  plain  and  commodious  for  the 
great  perfonage  whom  they  preceded. 

In  the  fame  manner  was  John  the  Baptifl  in  a  fpiritual 
fenfe  to  go  before  the  Lord,  before  the  Saviour  of  the  world, 
to  prepare  his  way,  to  make  his  paths  ftraight,  to  remove 
out  of  the  minds  of  men  every  thing  that  oppofed  itfelf  ta 
the  admiffion  of  divine  truth,  all  prejudice,  biindnefs,  pride, 
obftinacy,  felf-conceit,  vanity,  and  vain  philofophy  ;  but 
above  all,  to  fubdue  and  regulate  thofe  depraved  afFeftions, 
appetites,  pafiions,  and  inveterate  habits  of  wickednefs, 
which  are  the  grand  obilacles  to  converfion  and  the  reception 
cf  the  word  of  God, 

His  exhortation  therefore  was,  ^^  Repent  ye '^*  renounce  thofe 
vices  and  abominations  which  at  prefent  blind  your  eyes  and 
cloud  your  underftandings,  and  then  you  v/ill  be  able  to  fee  the 
truth  and  bear  the  light.  This  was  the  method  which  John 
took,  the  inftrument  he  made  ufe  cf  to  extirpate  out  of  the 
minds  of  his  hearers  all  impediments  to  the  march  of  the  Gof- 
pel,  or,  as  the  prophetic  language  moft  fublimely  exprelTes  it, 
**  He  *  cried  aloud  to  them.  Prepare  ye  tlie  way  of  the  Lord 
make  ftraight  the  highway  for  our  God.  Let  every  valley 
be  exalted,  and  every  mountain  and  hill  be  made  low ;  let 
the  crooked  be  made  ftraight,  and  the  rough  places  plain  ; 
and  the  glory  of  the  Lord  ftiall  be  revealed,  and  all  flefU 
ftiall  fee'it." 

What  a  magnificent  preparation  is  this  for  the  great  found- 
er of  our  religion  !   What  an  exalted  idea  muft  it  give  us  of 
his  dignity  and  importance,  to  have  a  forerunner  and  a  hai> 
*  Ifaiah,  xl-  3 — f. 


LECTURE    IIL  45 

dinger  fuch  as  John  to  proclaim  his  approach  to  the  world, 
and  call  upon  all  mankind  to  attend  to  him  !  It  was  a  dif- 
tindtion  peculiar  and  appropriate  to  him.  Neither  Mofes 
nor  any  of  the  prophets  can  boaft  this  mark  of  honour.  It 
was  referved  for  the  Son  of  God,  the  Mefliah,  the  Redeem- 
er of  mankind,  and  was  well  iiiited  to  the  tranfcendant  dig- 
nity of  his  perfon,  and  the  grandeur  of  his  defign. 

The  place  which  St.  John  chofe  for  the  exercife  of  his  minif- 
try  v>?-as  the  wildemefs  of  Judea,  v/here  he  feems  to  have  lived 
conftantly  from  his  birth  to  the  time  of  his  preaching ;  for 
St.  Luke  informs  us,  *  "  that  he  was  in  the  wildemefs  till 
the  time  of  his  fliewing  unto  Ifrael."  Hear  it  appears  he 
lived  with  great  aufterity.  For  he  drank  neither  wine  nor 
ftrong  drink  ;  a  rule  frequently  obferved  by  the  Jews,  when 
they  devoted  themfelves  to  the  ftrider  exercifes  of  religion. 
And  his  meat  was  locufts  and  wild  honey  :  fuch  fimple  food 
as  the  defert  afforded  to  the  loweft  of  its  inhabitants.  For 
eating  fome  forts  of  locufts  was  not  only  permitted  by  the 
law  of  Mofes,  but  as  travellers  inform  us,  is  common  in  the 
eaft  to  this  day.  The  clothing  of  the  baptift  was  no  lefs 
fimple  than  his  diet.  His  raiment,  we  are  told,  was  of 
camel's  hair  with  a  leathern  girdle  about  his  loins  ;  the  fame 
coarfe  habit  which  the  meaner  people  ufually  wore,  and 
which  fometimes  even  the  rich  afTumed  as  a  garbe  of  mourn- 
ing. For  this  raiment  of  camel* s  hair  was  nothing  elfc  than 
\h2LX.  fach-cloth  which  we  fo  often  read  of  in  Scripture.  And 
as  almoft  every  thing  of  moment  was,  In  tliofe  nations  and 
thofe  times,  expreiled  by  vlfible  figns  as  well  as  by  v/ords, 
the  prophets  alio  were  generally  clothed  in  this  drefs,  be- 
€aufe  one  principal  branch  of  their  office  was  to  call  upon 
men  to  mourn  for  t'heir  fms.  And  particularly  Ellas  or  Eli- 
jah is  defcribed  In  the  fecond  book  of  kings  as  a  hairy  man,f 
that  is,  a  man  clothed  in  hair-cloth  or  fack-cloth  (as  John  was)- 
with  a  leathern  girdle  about  his  loins,  Eveii  in  outv/ard  appear- 
ance  therefore  John  v/as  another  Elias  5  but  much  more  fo  as 
hev/as  endued,  according  to  the  angel's  prediclion,  with  the 
fpirit  and  poiver  of  Elias.^  Both  rofe  up  among  the  Jev/s 
in  times  of  univerfal  corruption ;  both  were  authorized  to 
denounce  fpecdy  vengeance  from  Heaven,  unlefs  they  repent- 
ed ;  both  executed  tlieir  commiiTion  with  the  fame  intrepid 

*  I.uke,  i.   80.  f  a  Kings,  i.  8,  %  Luke,  i.  r?. 


46  LECTURE     III. 

zeal ;  both  were  perfecuted  for  it  :  yet  nothing  deterred  ei- 
ther Elias  from  accufmg  Ahab  to  his  face,  or  John  from  re- 
buking Herod  in  the  fame  undaunted  manner. 

But  here  an  apparent  difBculty  occurs,  and  the  facred 
'vrriters  are  charged  with  making  our  Lord  and  St.  John  flatly 
contradid  each  othen 

When  the  Jews  fent  priefts  and  Levites  from  Jerufalem  to 
a{k  John  who  he  was,  and  particularly  whether  he  was  Elias  ; 
his  anPvver  was,  /  a77i  not  :*  But  yet  our  Lord  told  the  Jews 
that  John  luas  the  Elias  which  was  to  come.f  How  is  this 
contradidlion  to  be  reconciled  ?  Without  any  kind  of  difficul- 
ty. The  Jews  had  an  expedation  founded  on  a  literal  inter- 
pretation of  the  prophet  Malachi,  J  that  before  the  Meffiah 
came,  that  very  fame  Elias  or  Elijah,  who  lived  and 
prophefied  in  the  time  of  Ahab,  would  rife  from  the  dead 
and  appear  again  upon  earth.  John  therefore  might  very 
truly  fay  that  he  was  not  thai  Elias.,  But  yet  as  we  have 
feen  that  he  refembled  Elias  in  many  ftriking  particulars  ;  as 
the  angel  told  Zacharias  that  he  fhould  come  in  the  Jpirit  and 
pGvjer  of  Elias  ;  and  as  he  actually  approved  himfelf,  in  the 
turn  and  manner  of  his  life,  in  his  dodtrine  and  his  condud, 
the  very  fame  man  to  the  latter  Jews  which  the  other  had 
been  to  the  former,  our  Saviour  might  Vv-ith  equal  truth 
allure  his  difciples  that  John  ivas  that  Elias,  whofe  coming 
the  prophet  Malachi  had  in  Tijigurat'ive  fenfe  foretold.  This 
difnculty  we  fee  is  fo  eafily  removed,  that  I  fliould  not  have 
thought  it  worth  noticing  in  this  place,  had  it  not  been  very 
lately  revived  with  much  parade  in  one  of  thofe  coarfe  and 
blafphemous  publications  which  have  been  difperfed  in  this 
country  with  fo  much  activity,  in  order  to  diiTeminate  vulgar 
infidelity  among  the  lower  orders  of  people,  but  which  are 
now  finking  faft  into  oblivion  and  contempt.  This  is  one 
fpecimen  of  what  they  call  their  arguments  againfl  Chriflianit}'-* 
and  from  this  fpecimen  you  will  judge  of  all  the  reil.  But 
to  return. 

The  abftemioufnefs  and  rigour  of  the  BaptiR's  life  wa^^ 
calculated  to  produce  very  important  effeds.     It  v/as  fitte^d 

*  John,  i,  21,  f  Match,  xi.  14.  t  Malachi,  iv,  5. 


LECTURE     III.  47 

to  excite  great  attention  and  reverence  in  the  minds  of  hi?. 
hearers.  It  was  well  fuited  to  the  dodlrine  he  was  to  preach, 
that  of  repentance  and  contrition  ;  to  the  ferioufnefs  he  wifhed; 
to  infpire,  and  to  the  terror  which  he  was  appointed  to 
rmprefs  on  impenitent  offenders.  And  perhaps  it  was  furtlier 
defigned  to  intimate  the  need  there  often  is  of  harfh  reftrairJ:? 
in  the  beginning  of  virtue,  as  the  eafy  familiarity  of  our  Lord's 
manner  and  behaviour  exhibits  the  delightful  freedom  which 
attends  the  perfe£ilcn  of  it.  At  leaft,  placing  thefe  two 
chara(5lers  in  view  of  the  world,  fo  near  to  each  other,  mufl: 
teach  men  this  very  inftrudive  lelTon  ;  that  though  feverity  or 
conduct  may  in  various  cafes  be  both  prudent  and  neceiTary, 
yet  tlie  mildeft  and  cheerfuleft  goodnefs  is  the  compleateft ; 
and  they  the  moll  afefal  to  religion,  who  are  able  to  converfe 
among  fmners  without  rifquing  their  innocence,  as  difcreeC 
phyficians  do  among  the  fick  without  endangering  their 
health. 

It  is  remarkable  however  that  whatever  mortifications 
John  pradtifed  himfelf,  it  does  not  appear  that  he  prefcribed 
any  thing  to  others  beyond  the  ordinary  duties  of  a  good 
life.  His  difciples  indeed  fafted  often,  and  fo  did  many 
of  the  Jews  befides  ;  probably  therefore  the  former  as  A^nell 
as  the  latter  by  their  own  choice.  His  general  injunction 
v,'as  only,*  "  bring  forth  fruits  meet  for  repentance.*'  When 
more  particular  direftions  were  defired,  he  commanded  ail 
forts  of  men  to  avoid  more  efpeciaily  the  fms,  to  vv^hlch  their 
condition  moft  expofed  them.  Thus  when  thef  people  afked 
him  (the  common  people  of  that  hard-hearted  nation)  what 
iliall  we  do  ?  John  anfwered,  "  He  that  hath  two  coats,  let 
him  impart  to  him  that  hath  none,  and  he  that  hath  meat, 
let  him  do  hkewife."  That  is,  let  every  one  of  you  accord- 
mg  to  his  abilities  exercile  thofe  duties  of  charity  and 
kindnefs  to  his  neighbor,  which  you  are  all  of  you  but  toa 
apt  to  negledt.  The  publicans  or  farmers  of  the  revenue 
came  to  him,  and  faid,  "  %  Mailer,  what  fhall  we  do :" 
And  he  faid,  "  Exa<5l  no  more  than  that  which  is  appointed 
you."  Keep  clear  from  that  rapine  and  extortion  of  which 
you  are  fo  often  guilty  in  the  colledtion  of  the  revenue. 
Theji  foidiers  too  demanded  of  him,  "  What  fhall  we  do  :'* 

*  Ma'th.  ill    8.  |  L'jke,  iii    lo.   ir. 

\  Ibid    IS.  ij.  Ij  Ibid,  iii,  14. 


m  LECTURE     Iir. 

Ms  anfwer  was,  "  Do  violence  to  no  man,  neither  tccxiCd 
any  falfely,  and  be  contented  with  your  wages."  That  is,  ab- 
lain  from  tliofe  acts  of  injuftice,  violence,  and  oppreffion, 
te>  which  your  profeffion  too  often  leads  you.  Lewd  and 
ifebauched  people  alfo  applied  to  him,  to  whom  no  doubt  he 
^ave  advice  ftiited  to  their  cafe.  And  therefore  what  he 
raught  was  not  cerimonial  obfervances,  but  moral  condu(ft 
on  religious  principle ;  and  without  this  he  pronounced 
Ihowaver  difgufling  the  doctrine  muft  be  to  a  proud  and 
faperilitious  people)  the  higheft  outward  privileges  to  be  of 
-sm  value  at  all.  "  Think  *not,^'  faid  he  to  the  Jews,  "  to 
jay  within  yourfelves  *  we  have  Abraham  to  our  father,  and 
are  therefore  fure  of  God^s  favor,  be  our  condudt  what  it 
icay :'  for  I  fay  unto  you  that  God  is  able  of  thefe  ftones  to 
raife  up  children  unto  Abraham  ;"  is  able  to  make  the  moft 
fe:pid  and  ignorant  of  theie  heathens,  whom  you  fo  utterly 
defpife,  converts  to  true  religion  and  heirs  of  tlie  promifes. 

Such  v/ere  the  do(5trines  which  John  preached  to  his  difci- 
]ple3,  and  the  fuccefs  which  attended  him  was  equal  to  their 
magnitude  and  importance. 

This  v/as  plainly  foretold  by  the  angel  that  announced  his 
birth  to  his  father  Zacharias.  "  Many  f  of  the  children  o^ 
Frael  (faid  he)  ihall  he  turn  to  the  Lord  their  God.  Which 
m  faa  he  did.  For  the  evangelift s  tell  us  that  "  there  went 
oat  unto  him  into  the  wildernefs  Jerufaiem  and  all  Judea, 
and  all  the  region  about  Jordan,  and  were  baptized  of  liim."j: 
The  truth  of  this  is  amply  confirmed  by  Jofeph^s,  Vviio  in- 
forms us,  that  "  multitudes  flocked  to  him  ;  for  they  were" 
greatly  delighted  with  his  difcourfes,'* || 

It  mip-ht  naturally  be  expected  that  fuch  extraordinary 
popularity  and  applaufe  as  this  would  fill  him  Vvith  conceit 
and  vanity,  and  infpire  him  v/ith  a  moil  exalted  opinion  of 
bis  own  abihties,  and  a  fovereign  contempt  for  any  rival 
teacher  of  religion.  But  fo  far  from  this,  the  mofl  promi- 
nent feature  of  his  character  ^as  an  unexampled  modefty 
and  humiHty.  Though  he  had  been  ftiled  by  Malachi  the 
meflenger  of  the  Lord,  and  even  Ehas  (the  chief  prophet 

*   Matth.  Hi.  9.  t  Luke^i.    16.  |  Matth-  iii.  5-  ^^ 

I  Joieph    Ant;q.  Jiid.  ::viii.  a.     Edit.  Huds. 


LECTURE    Iir.  43 

ft^  the  Jews  next  to  Mofes)  he  never  afTumed  any  higher  title 
than  that  very  humble  one  given  him  by  Ifaiah ;  the  voice  of 
ens  crying  in  the  ivildsrnefs.  Far  from  defiring  or  attempting 
to  fix  the  admiration  of  the  multitude  on  his  own  perfon,  he 
gave  notice  from  his  firft  appearance  of  another  immediately 
to  follov/  him,  for  whom  he  was  unworthy  to  perform  the 
inoft  ferviie  offices.  He  made  a  fcruple,  till  exprefsly  com- 
manded, of  baptizing  one  fo  infinitely  purer  than  himfelf, 
as  he  knew  the  holy  Jefus  to  be.  And  when  his  difciples 
complained  that  all  nien  deferted  him  to  follow  Chrifl  (a 
mofl  mortifying  circumftance,  had  worldly  applaufe,  or 
intereft,  or  power,  been  his  point)  nothing  could  be  more 
ingenuoufly  felf-denying  than  his  anfwer ;  "  Ye  yourfelves 
bear  me  witnefs,  that  I  faid  I  am  not  the  Chrift,  but  am  fent 
before  him.  He  that  hath  the  bride,  is  the  bridegroom  ; 
but  the  friend  of  the  bridegroom,  which  ftandeth  and  hear- 
eth  him,  rejoiceth  greatly.  This  my  joy  therefore  is  ful- 
filled. He  mud:  increafe,  but  I  muft  decreafe ;  he  that  is  of 
the  earth  is  earthy  :  he  that  cometh  from  heaven  is  above 
all."* 

Of  fuch  unafFe(5ted  and  difinterefted  humility  as  this, 
where  fhall  we  find,  except  in  Chrift,  another  inftance  ? 
Yet  with  this  was  by  no  m*eans  united  what  we  are  too  apt 
to  afTociate  with  our  idea  of  humility,  meannefs  and  timidity 
cf  fpirit ;  on  the  contrary,  the  whole  condufl  of  the  Baptiil 
was  marked  throughout  with  the  moft  intrepid  courage  and 
magnanimity  in  the  difcharge  of  his  duty. 

Inftead  of  paying  any  court  either  to  tlie  great  men  cf 
his  nation  on  the  one  hand,  or  to  the  multitude  on  the  other, 
he  reproved  the  former  for  their  hypocrify  in  the  ftrongeil 
terms ;  "  O  generation  of  vipers,  who  hath  warned  you  to 
flee  from  the  wrath  to  come  ?"f  and  he  required  the  latter 
to  renounce  every  one  of  thofe  favorite  fins  which  they  had 
long  indulged,  and  were  moft  umvilling  to  part  with.  But 
what  is  ftill  more,  he  reproved  without  fear  and  without  re- 
ferve  the  abandoned  and  ferocious  Herod,  for  injurioufly 
taking  av/ay  Herodias  his  brother's  wife,  and  afterwards 
incefluoully  marrying  her,  and  for  all  the  other  evil  that  he 

*  John  iil  ^8.  29.  f  Matthew  iil  7, 


^0  LECTURE     in, 

had  done.  He  well  knew  the  favage  and  unrelenting  temw 
per  of  that  fanguinary  tyrant ;  he  knew  that  this  bcldnefs 
of  expoftulation  would  fooner  or  later  bring  down  upon  him 
the  whole  weight  of  his  reientment.  But  knowing  alfo  that 
he  was  fent  into  the  world  to  preach  repentance  to  all,  and 
feeling  it  his  duty  to  cry  aloud  and  fpare  not,  to  fpare  not 
even  the  greateft  and  moft  exalted  of  fmners,  he  determined 
not  to  Ihrink  from  that  duty,  but  to  obey  his  confcience,  and 
take  the  confequences, 

Thofe  confequences  were  exadlly  what  he  muft  have  fore- 
feen.  Ke  was  firft  (hut  up  in  prifon  ;  and  not  long  after- 
wards, as  you  all  know,  the  life  of  this  great  and  innocent  man 
was  wantonly  facrificed  in  the  midll  of  conviviality  and 
mirth  to  the  ralh  oath  of  a  worthlefs  and  a  mercilefs  prince, 
to  the  licentious  fafcinations  of  a  young  woman,  and  th& 
implacable  vengeance  of  an  old  one. 

After  this  fliort  hiflory  of  the  doiflrines,  the  life,  and  the 
death  of  this  extraordinary  man,  I  beg  leave  to  offer  in  con- 
clufion  a  few  remarks  upon  it  to  your  ferious  confideration. 

And  in  the  firft  place,  in  the  teffimony  of  John  the  Bap- 
tift,  we  have  an  additional  and  powerful  evidence  to  the 
truth  and  the  divine  authority  of  Chrift  and  his  religion. 

If  the  account  given  of  John  in  the  Gofpels  be  true,  the 
hiftory  given  there  of  Jefus  muft  be  equally  fo,  for  they  are 
plainly  parts  of  one  and  the  fame  plan,  and  are  fo  conne<5t- 
ed  and  interwoven  with  each  other,  that  they  muft  either 
ftand  or  fall  togetlier. 

Now  that  in  the  firft  place  there  did  really  exift  fuch  a 
perfon  as  John  the  Baptift  at  the  time  fpecified  by  the 
evangelifts,  there  cannot  be  the  fmalleft  doubt  j  for  he  is 
mentioned  by  the  Jev/ifh  hiftorian  Jofephus,  and  all  the  cir- 
cnmftances  he  relates  of  him,  as  far  as  they  go,  perfe<5Hy 
.  correfpond  with  the  defcription  given  of  him  by  the  facred 
hiftorians.  He  reprefents  him  as  ufmg  the  ceremony  of 
baptifm.  He  fays  that  multitudes  flocked  to  him,  for  they 
were  greatly  delighted  with  his  difcourfes,  and  ready  to  ob- 
ferve  all  his  diredions.     He  afTerts  that  he  was  a  good  man ; 


LECTURE    IIL  SI 

feiid  that  he  exhorted  the  Jews  not  to  come  to  his  baptifm 
without  firft  preparing  themfelves  for  it  by  the  pradice  of 
virtue;  that  is,  in  the  language  of  the  Gofpels,  without 
repentance.  He  relates  his  being  inhumanly  murdered  by- 
Herod  ;  and  adds,  that  the  Jews  in  general  entertained  fo 
high  an  opinion  of  the  innocence,  virtue,  and  fandity  of 
John,  as  to  be  perfuaded  that  the  definition  of  Herod's 
army,  which  happened  not  long  after,  was  a  divine  judg- 
ment inflicted  on  him  for  his  barbarity  to  fo  excellent  a  man.* 

It  appears  then  that  St.  John  was  a  perfon,  of  whofe 
virtue,  integrity,  and  piety,  we  have  the  moft  ample  tefti- 
mony  from  an  hiftorian  of  unqueftionable  veracity,  and  we 
may  therefore  rely  with  perfecft  confidence  on  every  thing  he 
tells  us.  He  was  the  very  man  foretold  both  by  Ifaiah  and 
Malachi,  as  the  forerunner  of  that  divine  perfonage,  whom 
the  Jews  expeded  under  the  name  of  the  Meffiah.  He  de- 
clared that  Jefus  Chrift  was  this  divine  perfon,  and  that  he 
himfelf  was  fent  into  the  world  on  purpofe  to  prepare  the 
Way  before  him,  by  exhorting  men  to  repentance  and  re- 
formation of  life.  If  then  this  record  of  John  (as  the  evan» 
gelifts  call  it)  be  true,  the  divine  million  of  Chrift  is  at  once 
eftablilhed,  becaufe  the  Baptift  exprefsly  afTerts  that  he  was 
the  Son  of  God,  and  that  whoever  believed  in  him  ihould 
have  everlafting  life.f  Now  that  this  record  is  true,  we 
have  every  reafon  in  the  world  to  believe,  not  only  becaufe 
a  man  fo  eminently  diftinguifhed  for  every  moral  virtue  as 
St.  John  confefTedly  was,  cannot  be  thought  capable  of 
publicly  proclaiming  a  deliberate  falfehood  ;  but  becaufe 
had  his  character  been  of  a  totally  different  complexion,  had 
he  for  inftance  been  influenced  only  by  views  of  intereft  am- 
bition, vanity,  popularity ;  this  very  falfehood  muft  have 
completely  counteracted  and  overfet  every  projed  of  this  na- 
ture. For  every  thing  he  faid  of  Jefus,  inftead  of  aggran- 
dizing and  exalting  himfelf,  tended  to  lower  and  to  debafe 
him  in  the  eyes  of  all  the  v/orld ;  he  affured  the  multitude 
who  followed  him,  that  there  was  another  perfon  much  more 
worthy  to  be  followed ;  that  there  v/as  one  coming  after  him 
Gf  far  greater  dignity  and  confequence  than  himfelf^  one 

*  Jofeph.  Antiq.  1-  xviii-  c.  6.  s.  %,    Ed.  Kuds. 
t  John  iii.  z(>^  i-  34* 


^  LECTURE    III. 

whofe  flioes  latchet  he  was  not  worthy  to  unloofe  ;*  one  f& 
infinitely  fuperior  to  him  in  rank,  authority,  and  wifdom, 
that  he  was  not  fit  to  perform  for  him  even  the  moft  fervile 
offices.  He  himfelf  was  only  come  as  a  humble  meffenger 
to  announce  the  arrival  of  his  Lord,  and  fmooth  the  way 
before  him.  But  the  great  perfonage  to  whom  they  were  to- 
dired  their  eyes>  and  in  whom  they  were  to  centre  all  their 
hopes,  was  Jesus  Christ.  Is  this  now  the  language  of  a 
man  who  fought  only  for  honor,  emolument,  or  fame,  or 
was  actuated  only  by  the  fond  ambition  of  being  at  the  head 
of  a  fe<ft  ?  No  one  can  think  fo.  It  is  not  very  ufual  furely 
for  men  of  any  charafter,  much  fefs  for  men  of  the  hejl  cha* 
radter,  to  invent  and  to  utter  a  firing  of  falfehoods  with  the 
profelfed  defign  of  degrading  themfelves  and  exalting  fome 
other  perfon.  Yet  this  was  the  plain  tendency  and  avowed 
objed  of  John's  declarations,  and  the  eiFedl  was  exadly  what 
might  be  expedled,  and  what  he  wifhed  and  intended,  name* 
iy,  that  great  numbers  deferted  him  and  followed  Chrift.f 

But  befides  bearing  this  honeft  and  difinterefted  teftimony 
to  Chrift,  the  Baptift  hazarded  a  meafure  which  no  impoftor 
m  enthu(iaft  ever  ventured  upon,  without  being  immediate- 
ly detected  and  expofed.  He  ventured  to  deliver  tnjoo  prophet 
cles  concerning  Chrift  ;  prophecies  too  which  were  to  be  com- 
pleted,  not  at  fome  diftant  period,  when  both  he  and  his 
hearers  might  be  in  their  graves,  and  the  prophecy  itfelf  for- 
got, but  within  a  very  fhort  fpace  of  time,  when  every  one 
who  heard  the  predi<5lion  might  be  a  witnefs  to  its  accomplifli- 
ment  or  its  failure.  He  foretold,  that  Jefus  Jhould  baptise 
'-with  the  Holy  Ghojl  and  with  Jire,  and  that  he  Jhould  he  offered 
■up  as  a  facrtfice  for  the  fins  of  mankind.X  Thefe  were  very  fm- 
gular  things  for  a  man  to  foretel  at  hazard  and  from  conjec- 
ture, becaufe  nothing  could  be  more  remote  from  the  ideas 
of  a  Jew,  or  more  unlikely  to  happen  in  the  common  courfe 
of  things.  They  were  moreover  of  that  pecuhar  nature, 
that  it  was  utterly  impofiible  for  John  ^nd  Jefus  to  concert 
the  matter  between  themfelves ;  for  the  completion  of  the 
prophecies  did  not  depend  folely  on  iheyn,  but  required  the 
concurrence  of  other  agents,  of  the  Holy  Ghoil  in  the  firft 

♦  Mark,  i,  7.    I.uke,  ili.  16.        f  John,  iii.  a6.  30;  iv,  l, 
I  Mattb.  iii.  IX.    John,  i.  0,%* 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E    IIL  B^ 

Inftance,  and  of  the  Jews  and  the  Roman  governor  In  the 
other ;  and  unlefs  thefe  had  entered  into  a  confederacy  with 
the  Baptift  and  with  Chrift,  to  fulfil  what  John  foretold,  it 
was  not  in  the  power  of  either  to  fecure  the  completion  of  it. 
Yet  both  thefe  prophecies  were,  we  know,  actually  accom- 
plifhed  within  a  very  few  years  after  they  were  delivered  ;  for 
our  Lord  fufFered  death  upon  the  crofs  for  the  redemption  of 
the  world ;  and  the  Holy  Ghoft  defcended  vifibly  upon  the 
apoftles  in  the  femblance  of  fire  on  the  day  of  Pentecoft.* 

It  Is  evident  then  that  the  Baptift  was  not  only  a  good  man, 
but  a  true  prophet ;  and  for  both  reafons,  his  teftimony  in 
favor  of  Chrift,  that  he  was  the  Son  of  God,  affords  an 
inconteftible  proof  that  both  he  and  his  religion  came  from 
heaven. 

2.  The  hlftory  of  the  Baptift  affords  a  proof  alfo  of  anv 
other  point  of  no  fmall  importance.  It  gives  a-  ftrong  con- 
firmation to  that  great  evangelical  dodrine,  the  doctrine  of 
atonement ;  the  expiation  of  our  fins  by  the  facrifice  of 
Chrift  upon  the  crofs. 

We  are  often  told,  that  there  was  no  need  for  this  expia- 
tion. That  repentance  and  reformation  are  fully  fufEcient 
to  reftore  the  moft  abandoned  finners  to  the  favor  of  a  juft 
and  merciful  God,  and  to  avert  the  punifhment  due  to  their 
offences. 

But  what  does  the  great  herald  and  forerunner  of  Chrift 
iay  to  this  ?  He  came  profeffedly  as  a  preacher  of  repentance^ 
This  was  his  peculiar  office,  the  great  obje«5t  of  his  miffion, 
the  conftant  topic  of  his  exhortations.  "  Repent  ye,  and 
bring  forth  fruits  meet  for  repentance.''^  This  w^as  the  un» 
ceafing  language  of  "  the  voice  crying  in  the  wildernefs.'* 

If  then  repentance  alone  had  fufficient  efficacy  for  the  ex- 
piation of  fin,  furely  we  fhould  have  heard  of  this  from  him 
who  came  on  purpofe  to  preach  repentance.  But  what  is 
the  cafe  ?  Does  he  tell  us  that  repentance  alone  will  take  away 
the  guilt  of  our  tranfgreffions,  and  juftify  us  in  the  eyes  of 
our  Maker  \  Quite  the  contrary.     NotwitliHanding  the  great 

*  A^8,  M,  z.  t  Matth.  iii.  %.  8. 


54  LECTURE     III. 

ftrefs  he  juftly  lays  on  the  indirpenfable  necelTity  of  repent-^ 
ance,  yet  he  tells  his  followers  at  the  fame  time,  that  it  was 
to  Chriji  only^  and  to  his  death,  that  they  were  to  look  for 
the  pardon  of  their  fms.  "  Behold,"  fays  he,  "  the  Lamb 
of  God,  which  taketh  away  the  fms  of  the  world  !"*  And 
again,  "  he  that  beheveth  on  the  Son  hath  everlafling  life  ; 
and  he  that  believeth  not  the  Son  hath  not  life,  but  the  wrath 
of  God  abideth  on  him."f  Since  then  tlie  expiation  of  fm 
by  the  facrifice  of  Chrill  is  a  do<5trine  not  only  taught  in  the 
Gofpel  itfelf,  but  enforced  alfo  by  him  who  came  only  to 
prepare  the  v/ay  for  it ;  it  is  evident,  from  the  care  taken  to 
apprize  the  world  of  it  even  before  Chriftianity  was  promul- 
gated, how  important  and  effential  a  part  this  muft  be  of 
that  divine  religion. 

Laftly,  it  will  be  of  ufe  to  obferve,  what  the  particular 
method  was  which  John  made  ufe  of  to  prepare  men  for  the 
reception  and  the  belief  of  the  Gofpel ;  for  whatever  means 
he  applied  to  the  attainment  of  that  end,  the  fame  probably 
we  fhall  find  the  moft  efficacious  for  a  fimilar  purpofe  at  this 
very  day. 

Now  it  Is  evident  that  the  Baptlfl  addrefTed  himfelf.  In  the 
firft  inflance,  not  to  the  underjlandingy  but  to  the  heart.  He 
did  not  attempt  to  convince  his  hearers,  but  to  reform  them ; 
he  did  not  fay  to  them,  go  and  fludy  tlie  prophets,  examine 
v/ith  care  the  pretenfions  of  him  whom  I  announce,  and 
weigh  accurately  all  the  evidences  of  his  divine  miflion ;  he 
well  knew  how  all  this  would  end,  in  the  then  corrupt  flate 
of  their  minds.  His  exhortation  was  therefore,  "  Repent  ye^ 
for  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  hand."  It  was  on  this 
principle  he  reproved  with  fo  much  feverity  the  pharifees  and 
fadduces  who  came  to  his  baptifm,  whom  one  would  think  he 
fhould  rather  have  encouraged  and  commended,  and  receiv- 
ed with  open  arms.  "  O  generation  of  vipers,  who  hath 
warned  you  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come  ?  Bring  forth, 
therefore,  fruits  meet  for  repentance."^  Till  you  have  done 
this,  till  you  have  purified  your  hearts  and  abandoned  your 
fins,  my  baptifm  will  be  of  no  ufe  to  you,  and  all  the  rea- 
foning  in  the  world  will  have  no  effedl  upon  you.     In  perfect 

*  Luke,  i,  29.  f  John,  iii.  36.         \  Matth,  ili.  7,  8, 


LECTURE    IIL  05 

conformity  to  this,  Jofephus  informs  us,  that  John  exhorted 
the  Jews  not  to  come  to  his  baptifm,  without  firft  preparing 
themfelves  for  it  by  the  practice  of  virtue^  by  a  ftri<5t  adherence 
to  the  rules  of  equity  and  juftice  in  their  dealings  with  one 
another,  and  by  manifefting  a  fincere  piety  towards  God. 

This  is  the  preparation  he  required  ;  and  thus  it  is  that  we 
alfo  mud  prepare  men  for  the  reception  of  divine  truth. 
We  muft  firft  reform,  and  then  convince  them.  It  is  not  in 
general  the  want  of  evidence,  but  the  want  of  virtue  that 
makes  men  infidels  ;  let  them  ceafe  to  be  wicked,  and  they 
will  foon  ceafe  to  be  unbelievers.  "  It  is  with  the  hearf," 
fays  St.  Paul  (not  with  the  head)  "  that  man  believeth  un- 
to righteoufnefs."*  Correct  tlie  heart,  and  all  will  go  right. 
TJnlefs  the  foil  is  good,  all  the  feed  you  call  upon  it  will  be 
wafted  in  vain.  In  the  parable  of  the  fower  we  find,  that 
the  only  feed  which  came  to  perfedion  was  that  which  fell 
on  good  ground,  on  an  honeft  and  a  good  heart.  This  is  the 
firft  and  m.oft  eflential  requifite  to  belief.  Unbelievers  com- 
plain of  the  myfteries  of  revelation  ;  but  we  have  the  higheit 
authority  for  faying,  that  in  general  the  only  myftery  which 
prevents  them  from  receiving  it,  is  the  m.yftery  of  iniquitVo 

We  hear,  Indeed,  a  great  deal  of  tlie  good  nature,  the 
benevolence,  the  generofity,  the  humanity,  the  honor,  and 
the  other  innumerable  good  qualities  of  thofe  that  rejeft  the 
Gofpel ;  and  they  may  poffibly  poftefs  fome  oftentatious  and 
popular  virtues,  and  may  keep  clear  from  flagrant  and  difre- 
putable  vices.  But  whether  fome  grois  depravity,  fome  in- 
veterate prejudice,  or  fome  leaven  of  vanity  and  felf-conceit, 
does  not  commonly  lurk  in  their  hearts,  and  influence  both 
their  opinions  and  their  prad:ices,  they  who  have  an  extenfive 
acquaintance  with  the  writings  and  the  condudt  of  that  clafs 
of  men  will  find  no  difficulty  in  deciding.  If  however  this 
was  the  decifion  of  man  only,  the  juftnefs  of  it  might  be 
controverted,  and  the  competency  of  the  judge  denied.  It 
might  be  faid,  that  it  is  unbecoming  and  prefumptuous  in  any 
human  being  to  pafs  fevere  cenfures  on  large  bodies  of  men  ; 
and  that  without  being  able  to  look  into  the  heart  of  m,an,  it 
is  impoffible  to  form  a  right  judgment  of  his  moral  charac- 

*  Rom,  X.  10. 


66  LECTURE     III, 

ten  This  we  do  not  deny.  But  if  he  who  actually  has  tha^ 
power  of  locking  into  the  heart  of  man,  if  he  who  is  per-? 
fe6tly  well  acquainted  with  human  nature,  and  all  the  vari- 
ous characters  of  men  ;  if  he  has  declared  that  men  lave  dark* 
nejs  rather  than  light,  becaufe  their  deeds  are  coil,*  who  wilj. 
conti overt  the  truth  of  that  decifion  ?  On  this  authority  then 
we  may  fecurely  rely,  and  may  reft  affured,  that  whatever 
pretences  may  be  fet  up  for  rejedling  revelation,  the  grand 
cbftacles  to  it  are,  indolence,  indifference,  vice,  paffion, 
prejudice,  felf-conceit,  pride,  vanity,  love  of  fmgularity,  9 
difdain  to  think  with  the  vulgar,  and  an  am.bition  to  be  con- 
fidered  as  fuperior  to  the  reft  of  mankind  in  genius,  penetra- 
tion, and  difcemm.ent.  It  is  by  removing  thefe  impediments 
in  the  firft  place  that  we  muft  prepare  men,  as  St.  John  did, 
for  embracing  the  religion  of  Chrift.  Thefe  (to  make  ufe 
cf  prophetic  language)  are  the  mountains  that  muft  be  made 
low ;  thefe  the  crooked  paths  that  muft  be  made  ftraight ; 
thefe  the  rough  places  that  muft  be  made  plain.  Then  all 
difFxCukies  will  be  removed,  and  there  will  be  a  high  wav 
FOR  OUR  God.  Then  there  will  be  a  fmooth  and  eafy  ap- 
proach for  the  Gofpel  to  the  under  ft  audi  ng,  as  well  as  to  the 
heart ;  there  will  be  nothing  to  oppofe  its  conqueft  over  the 
foul.      The    Glory  of  the  Lord    shall  fully  be  res 

VEALED,    AND    ALL    FLESH    SHALL    SEE    IT.f 

*  John,  ill.   19.  j-  Ifaiah>  xl.  5. 


LECTURE     IV. 

MATTHEW  iv. — ^fonner  parto 

X  HE  fourth  chapter  of  St.  Matthew,  at  v/hkh 
we  are  now  arrived,  opens  with  an  account  of  that  mod  iin- 
gular  and  extraordinary  tranfa<5lion,  The  Temptation  of 
Christ  in  the  wilderness.  The  detail  of  it  is  as  fol- 
lows: 

<'  Then  was  Jefus  led  up  of  the  fpirit  into  the  wildemeii 
to  be  tempted  of  the  devil :  and  when  he  had  fafted  forty  days 
and  forty  nights  he  was  afterw^ards  an  hungred.  And  when  the 
tempter  came  to  him,  he  faid,  if  thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  com- 
mand that  thefe  ftones  be  made  bread.  Eut  he  anfwered 
and  faid,  it  is  written  man  ihall  not  live  by  bread  alone,  but 
by  every  word  that  proceedeth  out  of  the  mouth  of  God. 
Then  the  devil  taketh  him  up  into  tlie  holy  city,  and  fetteth 
him  on  a  pinnacle  of  the  temple,  and  faith  unto  him,  if 
tliou  be  the  Son  of  God,  cail  thyfelf  dawn  ;  for  it  is  vvTit- 
ten,  he  (hall  give  his  angels  charge,  concerning  thee,  and  in 
their  hands  they  fhall  bear  thee  up,  left  at  any  time  thou 
dafti  thy  foot  againft  a  ftone.  Jefus  faid  unto  him,  thou 
fhalt  not  tempt  the  Lord  thy  God.  Again  the  devil  taketh 
him  up  into  an  exceeding  high  mountain,  and  fheweth  him 
all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  and  the  glory  of  them,  and 
faith  unto  him,  all  thefe  things  will  I  give  thee,  if  thou  wiit 
fall  down  and  Vv-orfliip  me.  Then  faid  Jefus  unto  him.  Get 
thee  hence,  Satan,  for  it  is  written,  thou  llialt  worfhip  the 
Lord  thy  God,  and  him  only  (halt  thou  ferve.  Then  the 
$levil  leavetlv  him,  and  behold  argels  came  and  miniftere4 
Vnto  him."* 

Such  is  the  hlftory  given  by  the  Evangelifts  of  our  Lord's 
temptation,  which  has  been  a  fubject  cf  much  difcuffioa 
*  Matth.  iv.  i—n, 


S»  LECTURE    IV- 

smcng  leamsd  men.  It  is  well  known  in  particular  that 
leveral  ancient  commentators  as  well  as  many  able  and  pious 
men  of  our  own  times,  have  thought  that  this  temptation 
was  not  a  real  tranfadlion,  but  only  a  vifion  or  prophetic 
trance,  fimilar  to  that  which  Ezekiel  defcribes  in  the  8th 
chapter  cf  his  prophecy,  and  to  that  which  befel  St.  Peter 
when  he  fa  w  a  veflel  defcending  unto  him  from  heaven,  and 
let  down  to  the  earth.*  And  it  muft  be  acknowledged  that 
this  opinion  is  fupported  by  many  fpecious  arguments,  and 
feems  to  remove  fome  confiderable  difficulties.  But  upon 
the  whole  there  are  I  think  ftronger  reafons  for  adhering  to 
the  literal  interpretation,  than  for  recurring  to  a  vifionary  re- 
prefentation. 

For  in  tl^e  firil  place,  it  is  a  rule  admitted  and  eftablifhed 
by  the  beft  and  moft  judicious  interpreters,  that  in  explain- 
ing the  facred  writings  we  ought  never,  without  the  moft 
apparent  and  moft  indifpenfable  neceflity,  allow  ourfelves 
the  liberty  of  departing  from  the  plain,  obvious,  and  literal 
meaning  of  the  words.  Now,  I  conceive  that  no  fuch  ne- 
cefHty  can  be  alledged  in  the  prefent  inftance.  It  is  true> 
that  there  are  in  this  narrative  many  difficulties,  and  many 
extraordinary,  farprifing,  and  miraculous  incidents.  But 
the  whole  hiftory  of  our  Saviour  is  wonderful  and  miraculous 
Irom  beginning  to  end  ;  and  if  whenever  we  meet  with  a 
diffic  ulty  or  a  miracle,  vie  may  have  recourfe  to  figure,  met- 
ophor,  or  vifion,  we  fliall  foon  reduce  a  great  part  of  the  fa- 
cred writings  to  nothing  elfe.  Befides,  thefe  difficulties  will 
feveral  of  them  admit  of  a  fair  folution ;  and  where  they  do 
not,  as  they  afFe<5l  no  article  of  faith  or  practice,  they  muft 
be  left  among  thofe  infcrutable  myfteries  which  it  is  natural 
to  expeft  in  a  revelation  from  heaven.  This  v/e  muft  after 
all  be  content  to  do,  even  if  we  adopt  the  idea  of  vifion ; 
for  aven  that  does  not  remove  every  difficulty,  and  it  creates 
fome  that  do  not  attach  to  tlie  literal  interpretation. 

2.  In  the  next  place,  I  cannot  find  in  any  part  of  this 
irarrative  of  the  temptation  the  flighteft  or  moft  diftant  in- 
timation that  it  is  nothing  more  than  a  vifion.  The  very 
6rft  words  with  v/hich  it  commences   feem  to  imply  the  dU 

♦  A6ls  X.  xo — 16, 


T  L  E  C  T  U  R  E    IV.  63' 

re£l  contrary.  "  Then  was  Jefus  led  up  of  the  fpirlt  into 
the  wildemefs  to  be  tempted  of  the  devil."  Does  not  this 
lay  in  the  mofl;  exprefs  terms  that  our  Lord  was  led,  not  in  a 
dream,  or  trance,  or  vifion,  but  was  adually  and  literally 
led  by  the  fpirit  into  the  wildemefs  of  Judea  ?  There  is,  I 
know,  an  interpretation  which  explains  away  this  obvious 
meaning.  But  that  interpretation  refts  folely  on  the  doubt- 
ful fignification  of  a  fmgle  Greek  particle,  which  is  furely 
much  too  flender  a  ground  to  juftify  a  departure  from  the 
plain  and  literal  fenfe  of  the  pafiage.  Certain  it  is,  that  if 
any  one  had  meant  to  defcribe  a  real  tranfaclion,  he  could 
not  have  feledled  any  expreffions  better  adapted  to  that  pur- 
pofe  than  thofe  actually  made  ufe  of  by  the  Evangelift  ;  and 
I  believe  no  one  at  his  firft  reading  of  our  Lord's  temptation 
ever  entertained  the  flighteft  idea  of  its  being  a  vifionaiy 
reprefentation. 

S.  There  Is  an  obfervation  which  has  been  made,  and 
which  has  great  weight  in  this  queftioi\.  It  is  this  :  All  the 
prophets  of  the  Old  Teftament,  except  Mofes,  faw  vifions, 
and  dreamed  dreams,  and  the  prophets  of  the  New  did  the 
fame.  St.  Peter  had  a  vifion,  St.  John  faw  vifions,  St. 
Paul  had  vifions  and  dreams  :  but  Chrift  himfelf  neither  faw 
vifions  nor  dreamed  dreams.  He  had  an  intimate  and  im- 
mediate communication  with  the  Father  ;  and  he,  and  no 
one  elfe  in  his  days,  had  /ee?i  the  Father.  The  cafe  was  the 
fame  with  Mofes  ;  he  faw  God  face  to  face.  "  If  there  be  a 
prophet  among  you,  fays  God  to  Aaron,  and  Miriam,  I 
the  Lord  will  make  myfelf  known  to  him  in  a  vifion,  and 
will  fpeak  unto  him  in  a  dream.  My  fervant  Mofes  is  not 
fo,  who  is  faithful  in  all  my  houfe ;  with  him  will  I  fpeak 
mouth  to  mouth,  even  apparently  and  not  in  dark  fpeeches ; 
and  the  fimihtude  of  the  Lord  fnall  he  behold."*  Now  Mo- 
fes we  all  know  was  a  type  of  Chrift  ;  and  the  refemblance 
holds  between  them  in  this  inftance  as  well  as  in  many  others. 
They  neither  of  them  had  vifions  or  dreams,  but  had  both 
an  immediate  communication  with  God.  They  both  "  faw 
God  face  to  face."f  This  was  a  diftinction  and  a^mark  of 
dignity  peculiar  to  thofe  two  only,  to  the  great  legiflator  of 
the  Jews,  and  the  great  legiflator  of  the  Chriftians.     It  is 

*  Numb,  xll,  6 — 8.  f  Exod^^  rsxiii.  ii. 


m  L  E  C  T  U  R  E    IV. 

tfterefore  mconfiflent  with  this  high  priviledge,  this  mark: 
cf  fuperior  eminence,  to  fuppofe  that  our  Lord  was  tempt- 
ed in  a  vifion,  when  we  fee  no  other  inftance  of  a  vifxon  in 
tSie  whole  courfe  of  his  miniftry. 

4.  There  is  ftill  another  confideration  which  militates  ftrong* 
ly  againft  the  fuppofition  of  a  vifionary  temptation.  It  was 
in  itfelf  extremely  probable  that  there  fhould  be  a  real  and 
perfonal  conflict  between  Chrill  and  Satan,  when  the  former 
W3S  entering  upon  his  public  miniftry. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  great  chief  of  tlie  fallen  angels, 
'^ho  is  difcribed  in  fcripture  under  the  various  names  of  Satan, 
Beelzebub,  the  Devil,  and  the  Prince  of  the  devils,  has  ev» 
«r  been  an  irreconcileable  enemy  of  the  human  race,  and 
iias  been  conftantly  giving  the  moft  decided  and  moft  fatal 
proofs  of  this  enmity  from  the  beginning  of  the  world  to  this 
lrour»  His  hoftility  began  with  the  very  firft  creation  of  man 
upon  earth,  when  he  no  fooner  difcovered  our  firft  parents  in 
that  ftate  of  innocence  and  happinefs  in  which  the  gracious 
h^xid  of  the  Almighty  had  juft  placed  them,  than  with  a 
malignity  truly  diabolical,  he  refolved  if  poffible  to  deftroy 
«11  this  fair  fcene  of  virtuous  blifs,  and  to  plunge  them  into 
the  gulph  of  fni  and  mifery.  For  this  purpofe  he  exerted  all 
Iris  art  and  fubtilty  and  powers  of  perfuafion  ;  and  how  well 
he  fucceeded  we  all  know  and  feel.  From  that  hour  he  ef- 
tablilhed  and  exercifed  an  aftonifhing  dominion  over  the 
minds  of  men,  leading  them  into  fuch  ads  of  folly,  ftupid- 
Tty,  and  wickednefs,  as  can  on  no  other  principle  be  account- 
ed for.  At  the  time  of  our  Saviour's  appearance  his  tyranny 
feems  to  have  arrived  at  its  utmoft  height,  and  to  have  ex- 
itended  to  the  bodies  as  well  as  to  tlie  fouls  of  men,  of  both 
•which  he  fonrietimes  took  abfolute  poffelpon  :  as  we  fee  in  the 
Siiftory  of  thofe  unh'appy  perfons  mentioned  in  fcripture 
"wrhom  we  call  demoniacs  and  who  were  truly  faid  to  be  pojjfejf' 
«fi?  by  the  devil.  It  was  therefore  extremely  natural  to  fup- 
pofe, that  when  he  found  there  was  a  great  and  extraordina- 
ry perfonage  who  had  juft  made  his  appearance  in  the  world, 
who  was  faid  to  be  the  Son  of  God,  the  promifed  Saviour  of 
mankind,  that  feed  of  the  woman  who  was  tobruife  theferpent's 
sead  J  it  was  natural  that  he  ftiould  be  exceedingly  alarmed 


LECTURE    IV.  €i 

f 

Jit  thele  tidings,  that  he  fhould  tremble  for  his  dominion  | 
that  he  fhould  firll  endeavour  to  afcertain  the  fad,  whether 
this  was  really  the  Chrlft  or  not ;  and  if  it  turned  out  to  be  {o^ 
that  he  fhould  exert  his  utmoft  efforts  to  fubdue  this  formida- 
ble enemy,  or  at  leaft  to  feduce  him  from  his  allegiance  to 
God,  and  divert  him  from  his  benevolent  purpofe  towards 
anan.  He  had  ruined  tlie  firft  Adam,  and  he  might  there- 
fore flatter  himfelf  "v^^th  the  hope  of  being  equdlyYuccefsful 
with  tlie  fecond  Adam.  He  had  entailed  a  mortal  difeafe  on 
the  human  race  ;  and  to  prevent  their  recovery  from  that 
difeafe,  and  their  reftoration  to  virtue  and  to  happinej&, 
would  be  a  triumph  indeed,  a  conquefl  worthy  of  the  prince 
of  the  devils. 

On  the  other  hand  it  was  equally  probable  that  our  blelTed 
Lord  would  think  it  a  meafure  highly  proper  to  begin  his 
miniftry  with  Ihewing  a.  decided  fuperiority  over  the  great 
adverfary  of  man,  whofe  empire  he  was  going  to  abolifh  ; 
with  manifefting  to  mankind  that  the  great  Captain  of  their 
falvation  was  able  to  accomplifh  the  important  work  he  had 
undertaken,  and  with  fetting  an  example  of  virtuous  firm- 
nefs  to  his  followers,  which  might  encourage  them  to  refift 
the  moft  powerful  temptations  that  the  prince  of  darknefs 
could  throw  in  their  way. 

Thefe  confiderations,  in  addition  to  many  others,  afford  a. 
Urong  ground  for  believing  that  the  temptation  of  Chrifl:  ia 
the  wlldeniefs  was,  as  the  hiflory  itfelf  plainly  intimates,  a 
real  tranfadlion,  a  perfonal  contefl  between  the  great  enemy 
and  the  great  Redeemer  of  the  human  race  ;  and  in  this  point 
of  view  therefore  I  fhall"  proceed  to  confider  fome  of  the 
moft  remarkable  circumflances  attending  it,  and  the  practi- 
cal ufes  refuiting  from  it.* 

*  It  is  an  ingenious  otfervation  of  a  learned  friend  of  mine,  that  the 
temptation  of  Chrift  in  the  wildernefs  bears  an  evident  analogy  to  the 
trial  of  Adam  in  Paradife,  and  elucidates  the  nature  of  that  trial  in  whicb 
the  tempter  prevailed  and  man  fell-  Thcficond  Adam,  who  undertook: 
the  caufe  of  fallen  men,  was  fubjedled  to  temptation  by  the  fame  apoflate 
fpirit.  Herein  the  tempter  failed,  and  the  fecond  Adam  in  confequence 
became  the  reftorer  of  the  fallen  race  of  the  firft.  St.  Paul  in  more  pla- 
ces than  one,  points  out  the  refemblance  between  the  firft  Adam  and  the 
fecond,  and  the  temptation  in  the  wildernefs  exhibits  a  moft  intercfting* 
sranfadiioa,  wh«re  the  fecood  Adam  was  avSlually  placed  in  a  fiiuatio« 


te  LECTURE    IV. 

We  are  told  in  the  firft  place  that "  Jefus  was  led  up  of  the 
fplritintothe  wildemefs,"  that  is,  not  by  the  evilfpiritbutbythe 
fpirit  of  God,  by  the  fuggeftions  and  by  the  impulfe  of  the 
Holy  Ghoft,  of  whofe  divine  influences  he  was  then  full.— . 
For  the  time  when  this  happened  was  immediately  after  his 
baptifm,  which  is  related  in  the  conclufion  of  the  preceding 
chapter.  We  are  there  informed  that  Jefus  when  he  was 
baptized  went  up  ftraightway  out  of  the  water,  and  lo  the 
heavens  were  opened,  and  he  faw  the  fpirit  of  God  defcend- 
ing  like  a  dove,  and  lighting  upon  him.  And  lo  a  voice  from 
heaven  faying.  This  is  my  beloved  fon,  in  whom  I  am  well 
pleafed.*  Then  (it  immediately  follows)  was  Jefus  led  up  of 
the  fpirit  into  the  wildemefs  to  be  tempted  of  the  devil.— 
In  that  moment  of  exaltation,  w^hen  he  was  acknowledged 
by  a  voice  from  heaven  to  be  the  Son  of  God,  and  when  the 
Spirit  of  God  had  taken  full  pofleffion  of  his  foul,  then  it 
was  that  Jefus  went  forth  under  the  guidance  of  that  fpir. 
it  in  full  confidence  of  his  divine  power  into  the  v/ildernefs, 
to  incounter  the  prince  of  this  world.  A  plain  proof  that 
this  conteft  was  a  preconcerted  defign,  a  meafure  approved 
by  heaven,  and  fubfervient  to  the  grand  defign,  in  which 
cur  Saviour  was  engaged  of  refcuing  mankind  from  the  do- 
miiiion  of  Satan. 

The  place  into  which  our  bleffed  Lord  was  thus  led  was  the 
<tt}ildernefs,  probably  the  great  ivildernefs  near  the  river  Jordan^ 
in  which  Jefus  was  baptized,  and  foon  afterwards  tempted. 
This  wildemefs  is  thus  difcribed  by  a  traveller  of  great  cred- 
it and  varacity,  who  had  himfelf  feen  it.  "  In  a  few  hours 
(fays  this  writer)  we  arrived  at  the  mountainous  defert,  in 
which  our  Saviour  was  led  by  the  fpirit  to  be  tempted  by 
the  devil.  It  is  a  moft  miferable  dry  barren  place,  confift- 
ing  of  high  rocky  mountains,  fo  torn  and  difordered  as  if 
the  earth  had  fuffered  fome  great  convulfion,  in  which  its  very 
bovv-els  had  been  turned  outward.  On  the  left  hand,  look- 
ing down  into  a  deep  valley,  as  we  paffed  along  v/e  faw 

very  fimilar  to  that  of  the  firft.  The  fecrcts  of  the  Moft  High  are  un- 
fathomable to  fliort-fighted  mortals;  but  it  would  appear  from  what 
may  be  humbly  learnt  and  inferred  from  this  tranfadion,  that  our  blefled 
Lord's  temptation  by  Satan  was  a  neceflary  part  in  the  divine  ccononxy 
Cowards  agcompliihing  the  re  demptien  of  mankind. 
*  Mauh.  iii,  16^  xy. 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E     IV,  $^ 

S)ine  ruins  of  fmall  cells  and  cottages,  which  we  were  told 
were  formerly  the  habitations  of  hermits  retiring  hither  for 
penance  and  mortification ;  and  certainly  there  could  not 
be  found  in  the  whole  earth  a  more  comfortlefs  and  abandon- 
ed place  for  that  purpofe.  On  defcending  from  thefe  hills 
of  defolation  into  the  plain,  we  foon  came  to  the  foot  of 
Mount  Quarrantania,  which  they  fay  is  the  mountain  from 
whence  the  devil  tempted  our  Saviour  with  that  vifionary 
fcene  of  all  the  kingdoms  and  glories  of  this  world.  It  is, 
as  St.  Matthew  calls  it,  an  exceeding  high  mountain,  and  in  its 
afcent  difficult  and  dangerous.  It  has  a  fmall  chappel  at 
the  top,  and  another  about  half  way  up,  on  a  prominent 
part  of  a  rock.  Near  this  latter  are  feveral  caves  and  holes 
in  the  fides  of  the  mountain,  made  ufe  of  anciently  by  her- 
mits, and  by  fome  at  this  day  for  places  to  keep  their  Lent 
in,  in  imitation  of  that  of  our  blei^d  Saviour."* 

This  was  a  theatre  perfedlly  proper  for  the  prince  of  the 
fallen  angels  to  a^:  his  part  upon,  and  perfedly  well  fuited 
to  his  dark  malignant  purpofes. 

Here  then  after  our  Saviour  (as  Mofes  and  Elijah  ha4 
done  before  him)  had  endured  a  long  abftinence  from  food, 
the  devil  abruptly  and  artfully  aflailed  him  with  a  tempta- 
tion well  calculated  to  produce  a  powerful  effed  on  a  perfon 
faint  and  worn  out  with  faftlng.  "  If  thou  be  the  Son  of 
God,  command  that  thefe  ftones  be  made  bread."  But 
our  Saviour  repelled  this  infidious  advice,  by  quoting  the 
words  of  Mofes  to  the  Ifraelites  in  the  wildemefs,  "  Maa 
fliall  not  live  by  bread  alone,  but  by  every  word  that  pro- 
ceedeth  out  of  the  mouth  of  God."f  That  is,  he  that 
brought  me  into  this  wildemefs,  and  fubjeded  me  to  thefe 
trials,  can  fupport  me  under  the  prefTure  of  hunger,  by  a 
variety  of  means,  befides  the  common  one  of  bread,  juft  as 
he  fed  the  Ifraelites  in  the  wildemefs  with  manna,  with 
food  from  heaven.  I  will  therefore  rather  choofe  to  rely  on 
his  gracious  providence  for  my  fapport  in  this  exigency, 
than  work  a  miracle  myfelf  for  the  fupply  of  my  wants. 

This  anfwer  was  perfedly  conformable  to  the  principle  on 
which  our  Lord  aded  throughout  the  whole  of  his  miniltry. 
*  MauadreiL  f  Deut.  viil  3.    Matth.  iv.  4. 


^  L  E  C  T*  trit  H    IV. 

All  his  miracles  were  wrought  for  the  benefit  of  others,  not 
one  for  his  own  gratification.  Though  he  endured  hun^ 
ger  and  thirft,  and  indigence  and  fatigue,  and  all  the  other 
evils  of  a  laborious  and  an  itinerant  life,  yet  he  never  cnce 
relieved  himfelf  from  any  of  thefe  inconveniences,  or  pro- 
cured a  fmgle  comfort  to  himfelf  by  the  working  of  miracles* 
Thefe  were  all  appropriated  to  the  grand  objed  of  proving 
the  truth  of  his  religion  and  the  reality  of  his  divine  miffion, 
and  he  never  applied  them  to  any  other  purpofe.  And  ia 
this,  as  in  all  other  cafes,  he  a<5ted  with  the  moft  perfedl  v/if- 
dom ;  for  had  he  always  or  often  delivered  himfelf  from  the 
lirfferings  and  the  diftrelTes  incident  to  human  nature  by  the 
exertions  of  his  miraculous  powers,  the  benefit  of  his  exam- 
ple would  have  been  in  a  great  meafure  toil  to  mankind,  and 
it  would  have  been  of  little  ufe  to  us,  that  he  ivas  in  all  thingt 
tempted  like  as  we  are*,  becaufe  he  would  have  been  fupported 
and  fuccoured  as  <we  cannot  expedt  to  be. 

Having  thus  failed  to  work  upon  one  of  the  ftrongeft  of 
the  fenfual  appetites,  hunger,  the  tempter's  next  application 
was  to  a  different  pafHon,  but  one  which,  in  feme  minds,  is 
extremely  powerful,  and  often  leads  to  great  folly  and  guilt, 
I  mean  vanity  and  felf-importance.  *'  He  taketh  our  Lord 
into  the  holy  city,  and  fetteth  him  on  a  pymacle  of  the  tem- 
ple, and  faith  unto  him,  if  thou  be  the  Son  of  God  cafl  thy* 
felf  down  ;  for  it  is  written,  he  fhall  give  his  angels  charge 
concerning  thee,  and  in  their  hands  they  will  bear  thee  up, 
kit  at  any  time  thou  dafh  thy  foot  againft  a  ftonef ." 

The  place  where  our  Saviour  novv^  flood  was  on  a  pinnacle, 
or  rather  on  a  wing  of  the  magnificent  temple  of  Jeruialem, 
from  whence  tliere  was  a  view  of  the  vafl  concourfe  of  people 
who  were  worfhipping  in  the  area  below.  In  this  fituation 
the  feducer  flattered  himfelf  that  our  Saviour,  indignant  at 
the  doubts  which  he  artfully  exprefied  of  his  being  the  Son 
of  God,  would  be  eager  to  give  him  and  all  the  multitude 
that  beheld  them  a  mofl  convincing  proof  that  he  was  fo, 
by  cafting  himfelf  from  the  height  on  which  he  flood  into 
tlie  court  below,  accompanied  all  the  way  as  he  descended 
by  an  illuflrious  hoU  of  angels,  anxioufly  guarding  his  per- 

*  Hcb,  iv.  15.        t  Matth.  iv.  s>  6. 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E    IV.  m 

Ion  from  all  danger,  and  plainly  manifefting  by  their  foK- 
citude  to  proted  and  to  preferve  him,  that  they  had  a  mod 
invaluable  treafure  committed  to  their  care,  and  that  he 
was  in  truth  the  beloved  Son  of  God,  the  peculiar  favorite 
of  heaven. 

To  a  vain-glorious  tnind  nothing  could  have  been  more 
gratifying,  more  flattering,  than  fuch  a  propofal  as  this  ; 
more  efpecially  as  fo  magnificent  a  fpecflacle  in  the  fight 
of  all  the  Jews  would  probably  have  induced  them  to  receive 
him  as  their  Meffiah,  whom  it  is  well  known  they  expe<5led 
to  defcend  vifibly  from  heaven  in  fome  fuch  triumphant 
manner  as  this. 

But  on  the  humble  mind  of  Jefus  all  this  had  no  eiFe(5l.— 
To  him  who  never  affedled  parade  or  fhew,  who  never  court* 
ed  admiration  or  applaufe,  who  kept  himfelf  as  quiet  and 
as  retired  as  the  nature  of  his  midion  would  allow,  and  fre- 
quently withdrew  from  the  multitudes  that  flocked  around 
him,  to  deferts  and  to  mountains,  to  him  this  temptation 
carried  no  force  ;  his  anfwer  was,  "  Thou  fhalt  not  tempt 
the  Lord  tliy  God  ;"  tliou  fhalt  not  rufli  into  unneceffary 
danger  in  order  to  tempi  God,  in  order  to  try  whether  he 
will  interpofe  to  fave  thee  in  a  miraculous  manner  ;  much 
iefs  ought  this  to  be  done  as  now  propofed  for  the  purpofes 
of  vanity  and  oftentation. 

The  next  temptation  is  thus  defcribed  by  St.  Matthew : 

"  Again  the  devil  taketh  him  up  into  an  exceeding  high 
mountain,  and  flieweth  him  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world 
and  the  glory  of  them  ;  and  faith  unto  him,  all  thefe  things 
will  I  give  thee,  if  thou  wilt  fail  down  and  v/orfhip  me."* 

It  has  been  thought  an  infuperable  difficulty  to  conceive 
how  Satan  could  from  any  mountain  however  elevated, 
fliew  to  our  Saviour  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth,  and  the 
glory  of  them.  And  even  they  who  defend  the  hteral  fenfe 
of  the  tranfadlion  in  general,  yet  have  r^ourfe  to  a  vifion- 
ary  reprefentation  in  this  particular  inftance.  But  there 
feems  to  me  no  neceffity  for  calling  in  the  help  of  a  vKion 

*  Matth.  iv.  8,  9. 
G 


66  L  E  C  T  U  R  E     IV. 

even  here.  The  Evangelift  defcribes  the  mountain  oil 
which  Chrill  was  placed  as  an  exceeding  high  one  ;  and  the 
traveller*  to  whom  I  before  referred,  defcribes  it  in  the 
fame  terms. — From  thence  of  courfe  there  muft  have  been 
a  very  extenfive  view  ;  and  accordingly  another  writer,  the 
*Abbe  Mariti,  in  his  travels  through  Cyprus,  &c.  fpeaking 
of  this  mountain,  fays,  "  Here  we  enjoyed  the  moft  beauti- 
ful profped  imaginable.  This  part  of  the  mountain  over- 
looks the  mountains  of  Arabia,  the  country  of  Gilead,  the 
country  of  the  Ammonites,  the  plains  of  Moab,  the  plain  of 
Jericho,  the  river  Jordan,  and  the  whole  extent  of  the  Dead 
fea."  Thefe  various  domains  the  tempter  might  Ihew  to  our 
Lord  dillindly,  and  might  alfo  at  the  fame  tim.e  point  oui 
(for  fo  the  original  word  deikn:m}  fom.etimes  fignilies)  and 
direfl  our  Lord's  eye  towards  feveral  other  regions  that  lay 
beyond  them,  which  might  comprehend  all  the  principal 
kingdoms  of  the  eaftem  world.  And  he  might  then  properly- 
enough  fay,  "  all  thefe  kingdoms  v/hich  you  now  fee,  or^ 
tov^ards  which  I  now  point,  will  I  give  thee,  if  thou  v^ilt 
fall  down  and  worlliip  me."  This  explanation  appears  to 
me  an  eafy  and  a  natural  one.  But  if  others  think  dilFer- 
entl/j  it  is  fufficient  to  fay,  that  this  particular  incident  is 
not  more  extraordinary  than  almcft  every  other  part  of 
this  very  fmgular  tranfaftion  ;  throughout  the  whole  of 
which  the  devil  appears  to  have  been  permitted  to  exercife 
a  power  far  beyond  what  naturally  belonged  to  him. 

But  whatever  we  may  decide  on  this  point,  the  nature 
and  magnitude  of  the  temptation  are  evident.  It  is  no  lefs 
than  an  offer  of  kingdoms,  with  all  their  gloiy  ;  all  the 
honors,  power,  rank,  wealth,  grandeur,  and  magnificence, 
that  this  world  has  to  give.  But  all  thefe  put  together  could 
not  for  one  moment  fhake  the  firm  mind  of  our  divine  Maf- 
ter,  or  feduce  him  from  the  duty  he  ov/ed  to  God.  He  re- 
jefted  with  abhorrence  the  impious  propofition  made  to  him, 
and  anfwered  with  a  proper  indignation,  in  the  words  of 
fcripture,  *'•  Get  thee  hence,  Satan ;  for  it  is  written,  thou 
ihalt  worfhip  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  him  only  fhalt  thou 
lerve.f "  Upon  tfiis  we  are  told  that  the  devil  left  him,  and 
that  angels  came  and  miniflered  unto  him. 

*  MiundrdJ.  f  Matth,  iv.  lo,  ii. 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E     IV.  67 

Thus  ended  this  memorable  fcene  of  Chrift's  temptation 
in  the  wilderaefs.  The  reafons  of  it  refpe<5ting  our  Lord 
have  been  already  explained  ;  the  inftrudions  it  fumifties 
to  ourfelves  are  principally  thefe : 

1.  It  teaches  us,  that  even  the  beft  of  men  may  fome* 
times  be  permitted  to  fall  into  great  temptations,  for  we 
fee  that  our  blefTed  Lord  himfelf  was  expofed  to  the  fevereft. 
They  are  not  therefore  to  be  confidered  as  marks  of  God's 
difpleafure  or  defertion  of  us,  but  only  as  trials  of  our  virtue  ; 
as  means  of  proving  (as  Mofes  tells  the  Ifraelites)  what 
is  in  our  hearts,  whether  we  will  keep  God's  commandments 
or  no  ;  *  as  opportunities  gracioufly  afforded  us  to  demon- 
flrate  our  fmcerity,  our  fortitude,  our  integrity,  our  undia- 
ken  allegiance  and  fidelity  to  the  great  Ruler  of  the  world. 

2.  Whenever  we  are  thus  brought  into  temptation,  we 
have  every  reafon  to  hope  for  the  divine  alTillance  to  extri- 
cate us  from  danger.  We  have  the  example  of  our  bleffed 
Lord  to  encourage  us.  We  fee  the  great  Captain  of  our 
falvation  affaulted  by  all  the  art  and  all  the  power  of  Sa- 
tan, and  yet  rifnig  fuperior  to  all  his  efforts.  We  fee  him 
going  before  us  in  the  paths  of  virtue  and  of  glory,  and 
calling  upon  us  to  follow  him.  Though  he  was  led  by  the 
fpirit  of  God  .himfelf  into  the  wildernefs  in  order  to  be 
tempted,  yet  the  fame  divine  fpirit  accompanied  and  fup- 
ported  him  throughout  the  whole  of  his  bitter  confli6>,  and 
enabled  him  to  triumph  over  his  infernal  adverfary.  To 
the  fame  heavenly  fpirit  wv?  alfo  may  look  for  deliverance. 
If  we  implore  God  in  fer\"ent  prayer  to  fend  him  to  us,  he 
v/ili  afTurediy  grant  our  petition.  He  will  not  fuffer  us  to 
be  tempted  above  what  we  are  able,  but  will  with  the 
temptation  alfo  make  a  way  to  efcape  (vvhen  vv'-e  ourfelves 
cannot j^;?i  one)  that  we  may  be  able  to  bear  it=f 

3.  We  may  ieam  from  the  condudl  of  our  Lord  under 
this  great  trial,  that  when  temptations  allail  us  we  are  not  to 
parley  or  to  reafon  with  tliem,  to  hefitate  and  deliberate 
whether  v/e  fhall  give  way  to  them  or  nor,  but  mull  at  once 
jepel  them  vrlth  tirmnsfs  and  vdth  vigour,  and  oppofe  to 

*  Deut  V'Xi   z,  f  I  Cor.  r.  13, 


i^  LECTURE     IV. 

the  di(flates  of  our  paffions  the  plain  and  pofitive  commands 
of  God  in  his  holy  word.  We  muft  fay  refolutely  to  the 
tempter,  as  our  Lord  did,  "  Get  thee  hence,  Satan,'**  and 
he  will  inftantly  flee  from  us,  as  he  did  from  him, 

4.  It  is  a  moft  folid  confolation  to  us  under  fuch  contefts 
as  thefe,  that  if  we  honeftly  exert  our  utmoft  efforts  to  van- 
quilh  the  enemies  of  our  falvation,  mofl  humbly  and  de- 
voutly foliciting  at  the  fame  time  the  influences  of  divine 
grace  to  aid  our  weak  endeavours,  the  unavoidable  errors 
and  imperfections  of  our  nature  will  not  be  afcribed  to  us, 
nor  will  God  be  extreme  ta  mark  every  thing  that  is  done 
amifs  ;  for  we  ftiall  not  be  judged  by  one  who  has  no  feel' 
ing  of  our  infirmities,  but  by  one  who  knows  and  who  pi- 
ties them,  who  was  himfelf  in  all  things  tempted  like  as  we 
are,  yet  v/ithout  fmf ,  and  who  will  therefore  make  all  due 
allowances  for  our  involuntary  failings,  though  none  for 
our  wilful  tranfgreffions. 

5o  And  laftly,  in  the  various  allurements  prefented  to  our 
Lord,  we  fee  but  too  faithful  a  pi<5):ure  of  thofe  we  are  toex- 
pe6l  ourfelves  in  our  progrefs  through  life.  Our  Lord's 
temptations  were,  as  we  have  feen,  fenfual  gratifications,  in- 
citements to  vanity  and  oftentation,  and  the  charms  of 
wealth,  pov/er,  rank,  and  fplendour.  All  thefe  v/ill  in  the 
different  flages  of  our  exiftence  fuccefllvely  rife  up  to  feduce 
us,  to  oppofe  our  progrefs  to  heaven,  and  bring  us  into  cap- 
tivity to  fm  and  mifery.  Pleafure,  interefl,  bufinefs,  hon- 
our, glory,  fame,  all  the  follies  and  all  the  corruptions  of 
the  world,  will  each  in  their  turn  affault  our  feeble  nature  ; 
and  through  thafe  we  mufl:  manfully  fight  our  way  to  the 
great  end  we  have  in  view.  But  the  difficulty  and  the 
pain  of  this  conteft  will  be  confiderably  leffened  by  a  refb- 
lute  and  vigorous  exertion  of  our  powers  and  our  refources 
at  our  firft  fetting  out  in  life.  It  was  immediately  after  his 
baptifm,  and  at  the  very  beginning  of  his  miniftry,  that 
our  Lord  was  expofed  to  all  the  power  and  all  the  artifices 
of  the  devil, -and  completely  triumphing  over  both,  effe(5i:- 
iially  fecured  himfelf  from  all  future  attempts  of  that  im- 
placable enemy.     In  the  fame  manner  it  is  on  our  firfl  fet- 

*  Matth.  Iv.  lo.  t  Heb.  iv.  15, 


LECTURE     IV.  69 

ting  out  in  life,  that  we  are  to  look  for  the  mcft  violent  afl. 
faults  from  our  pallions  within,  and  from  the  world  and 
the  prince  of  it  wltliout.  And  if  we  ftrenuoufly  refift 
thofe  enemies  of  our  falvation  that  prefent  themfelves  to 
us  at  that  mod  critical  and  dangerous  period,  all  the  reft 
that  follow  in  our  maturer  age  will  be  an  eafy  conqueft. 
On  him  who  in  the  beginning  of  life  has  preferved  himfelf 
unfpotted  from  the  world,  all  its  fubfequent  attra<5lions  and 
allurements,  all  its  magnificence,  wealth,  and  fplendour, 
will  make  little  or  no  impreiTion.  A  mind  that  has  been 
long  habituated  to  difcipline  and  felf-govemm.ent  amidfl 
far  more  powerful  temptations,  will  have  nothing  to  ap- 
prehend from  fuch  affailants  as  thefe.  But  after  all,  cur 
great  fecurity  is  affiftance  from  above,  which  will  never  be 
denied  to  thofe  who  fervently  apply  for  it.  And  with  the 
power  of  divine  grace  to  fupport  us,  with  the  example  of 
our  Lord  in  the  wildemefs  to  animate  us,  and  an  eternity 
of  happinefs  to  reward  us,  what  is  there  that  can  ihake  our 
conftancy  or  corrupt  our  fidelity  ? 

Set  yourfelves  then  without  delay  to  acquire  an  early  habit 
of  ftrid  felf-government,  and  an  early  intercourfe  with 
your  heavenly  Protedor  and  Comforter.  Let  it  be  your  firft 
care  to  eftablilh  the  fovereignty  of  reafon  and  the  empire  of 
grace  over  your  foul,  and  you  will  foon  find  it  no  difficul- 
ty to  repel  the  moft  powerful  temptations.  "  Watch  ye, 
ftand  faft  in  tlie  faith;  quit  youi-felves  like  men;  be 
ftrong,"*  be  refolute,  be  patient ;  look  frequently  up  to  the 
prize  that  is  fet  before  you,  left  you  be  weary  and  faint  in 
your  minds.  Confider  that  every  pleafure  you  facrince  to 
your  duty  here,  will  be  placed  to  your  credit  and  encreafe 
your  happinefs  hereafter.  The  conflid  with  your  paffions 
will  grow  lefs  irkfome  every  day.  A  few  years  (widi  fome 
of  you  perhaps  a  very  few")  will  put  an  entire  end  to  it ; 
and  you  will  then,  to  your  unfpeakable  comfort,  be  enabled 
to  cry  out  with  St.  Paul,  "  I  have  fought  a  good  fight,  I 
have  finifhed  my  courfe,  I  have  kept  the  faith.  Hence> 
for'eih  there  is  laid  up  for  me  a  crown  of  righteoufnefs, 
which  the  Lord,  the  righteous  Judge,  fiiall  give  me  ia 
tliat  day."f 

*  I  Cor.  zvl  13,  f  2  Tira.  iv,  7,  §, 


J  .'i      .       —  — -—  ' ■  ■"        1^""- ■e-sag^ 


LECTURE     V. 


MATTH.     iv.  Latter  Part 


HE  former  part  of  the  fourth  chapter  of  St. 
Matthew,  which  contains  the  hiftory  of  our  Saviour's 
temptation,  having  been  explained  to  you  in  the  preceding 
jLedlure,  I  ftiall  now  proceed  to  the  latter  part  of  the  chap- 
ter, in  which  an  account  is  given  of  the  firll  opening  of 
our  blefTed  Lord's  miniftry,  by  his  preaching,  by  his  chu- 
fmg  a  few  companions  to  attend  him,  and  by  his  beginning 
to  work  miracles  ;  all  which  things  are  ftated  very  briefly, 
'without  any  attempt  to  expatiate  on  the  importance  and 
magnitude  of  the  fubjeft,  which  was  nevertlielefs  the  no- 
bleil  and  moft  interefting  that  is  to  be  found  in  hiftory  ;  an 
enterprize  the  moft  ftupendous  and  aftonifhing  that  ever  be-* 
fore  entered  into  the  mind  of  man,  nothing  lefs  than  the 
converfion  of  a  whole  world  from  wickednefs  zs.nd  idolatry 
to  virtue  and  true  religion, 

On  this  vaft  undertaking  our  Lord  now  entered ;  and  we 
are  informed  by  St.  Matthew,  in  the  17th  verfe  of  this 
chapter,  in  what  manner  he  firft  announced  himfelf  and  his 
religion  to  the  world.  His  firft  addrefs  to  the  people  was 
fimilar  to  that  of  the  Baptift,  Repent  ye,  for  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  is  at  hand.  The  very  firft  qualification  he  re- 
quired of  thofe  Vv'ho  afpired  to  be  his  difciples  was  repentance^ 
a  fmcere  contrition  for  all  paft  offences,  and  a  refolution  to 
renounce  in  future  every  fpecies  of  fm  ;  for  fm,  he  well 
knew,  would  be  the  grand  obftacle  to  the  reception  of  his 
Gofpel, 

"What  a  noble  idea  does  this  prefent  to  us  of  the  dignity 
and  fan(ftity  of  our  divine  religion  !  It  cannot  even  be  ap-^ 
proached  hy  the  unhallowed  and  the  profane.  Before  they 
can  be  admitted  even  into  the  outward  courts  of  its  iandtu» 


72  LECTURE     V. 

ary,  they  muft  leave  their  corrupt  appetite  and  their  fmful 
pra&iices  behind  them.  "  Put  off  thy  Ihoes  from  off  thy 
"  feet,"  faid  God  to  Mofes  from  the  burning  bufh,  <*  for  the 
'^'  place  whereon  thou  ftandeft  is  /joly  groundJ'^^  Put  off  all 
thy  vicious  habits,  fays  Chrift  to  every  one  that  afpires  to 
be  his  difciple,  for  the  religion  thou  art  to  embrace  is  a  ho- 
ly religion,  and  the  God  thou  art  to  ferve  is  of  purer  eyes 
than  to  behold  evil,  and  cannot  even  look  upon  iniquity.  lu 
fome  of  the  ancient  fefts  of  philofophy,  before  any  one 
could  be  admitted  into  their  fchools,  or  initiated  in  their 
myfteries,  he  was  obliged  to  undergo  a  certain  courfe  of 
preparation,  a  certain  term  of  trial  and  probation,  which 
however  confifled  of  little  more  than  a  few  fuperftitious  cer- 
emonies, or  fome  adls  of  "external  difcipline  and  purification. 
But  the  preparation  for  receiving  the  Chriftian  religion  is 
the  preparation  of  the  heart.  The  difcipline  required  for  a 
participation  of  its  privileges,  is  the  mortification  of  fm, 
the  facrifice  of  every  guilty  propenfity  and  defire. 

This  facrifice  however  the  great  founder  of  our  religion 
did  not  require  for  nothing.  He  promifed  his  followers  a 
recompence  infinitely  beyond  the  indulgences  they  were  to 
renounce  ;  he  promifed  them  a  place  in  his  kingdom,  a 
kingdom  of  which  he  was  the  fovereign ;  a  kingdom  of 
righteoufnefs  here,  and  of  glory  hereafter.  Repent  ye^  for 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  handj. 

He  then  proceeds  to  fele6l  and  afibclate  to  himfelf  a  cer- 
tain number  of  perfons,  who  were  to  be  his  affiflants  and 
coadjutors  in  the  eftablifliment  and  the  adminlftration  of  his 
heavenly  kingdom. 

And  here  it  was  natural  to  expert,  that  in  making  this 
choice  he  fhould  look  to  men  of  influence,  authority,  and 
weight ;  that  being  himfelf  deftiiiute  of  all  the  advantages 
of  rank,  power,  wealth,  and  leai-ning,  he  fliould  endeavor 
to  compenfate  for  thole  defecls  in  his  own  perfon  by  the  con- 
trary qualities  of  his  afibciates,  by  connedting  himfelf  with 
fome  of  the  moft  powerful,  moft  opulent,  moft  leamed> 
a^nd  moft  eloquent  men  of  his  time. 

*  Exod  iii.  j.  f  Matth.  iv.  1 7, 


LECTURE    V.  73 

And  this  moft  undoubtedly  would  have  been  his  mode 
of  proceeding,  had  his  object  been  to  eftabhfh  his  religion 
by  mere   human  means,  by  influence  or  by  force,  by  the 
charms  of  eloquence,  by  the  powers  of  reafon,  by  the  ex- 
ample, by  the  authority,  by  the  fafhion  of  the  great.     But 
thefe  were  not  the  inftruments  which  Chrift  meant  to  mate 
ufe  of.     He  meant  to  fhow  that  he  was  above  them  all ;  that 
he  had  far  other  refources,  far  different  auxiliaries,  to  call 
in  to  his  fupport,  in  comparifon  of  which  all  the  wealth  and 
magnificence,  and  power  and  wifdom  of  the  world,  were 
trivial  and  contemptible  things.     We  find  therefore  that 
not  the  wife,  not  the  mighty,  not  the  noble  v/ere  called*  to 
co-operate  with  him  ;  but  men  of  the  meaneft  birth,  of  the 
ioweft  occupations,  cf  the  humbled  talents,  and  moft  un- 
cultivated minds.     **  As  he  was  walking  by  the  fea  of  Gal- 
ilee, St.  Matthew  tells  us,   he  faw  two  brethren,  Simon 
called  Peter,  and  Andrew  his  brother,  cafting  a  net  into 
the  fea,  for  they  were  fifhers.     And  he  faith  unto  them, 
follow  me,  and  I  v^^ill  make  you  fifhers  of  men  ;  and  they 
ftraightway  left  their  nets   (that  is  in  fad  all  their  fubfiil- 
ence,  all  the  little  property  they  had  in  the  world)  and 
followed  him.     And  going  from  thence  he  faw  other  two 
brethren,  James  the  fon  of  Zebedee  and  John  his  brother, 
in  a  fhip  with  Zebedee  their  fatlier  mending  their  nets ;  and 
he  called  them,  and  they  immediately  left  the  fliip,  and 
their  father,  and  followed  himf."     Thefe  were  the  men 
whom  he  felecled  for  his  companions  and  affiflants.     "jrhefe 
fifhermen  of  Galilee  were  to  be,  under  him,  the  inftruments 
of  over-throwing  tiie  ftupendous  and  magnificent  fyftem  of 
paganifm  and  idolatry  throughout  the  world,  and  produ- 
cing the  greateft  change,  the   moft  general  and  moft  mi- 
portant  revolution  in  principles,  in  morals,  and  in  religion, 
that  ever  took  place  on  this  globe.     For  tliis  aftonifning 
work,  thefe  fimple,  illiterate,  humble  men,  were  fingled 
out  by  our  Lord.     He  chofe,  as  the  apcftle  exprefTes  it, 
«  tlie  foolifli  things  of  the  world  to  confound  tlie  wife,  and 
the  v*-eak  things  of  the  world  to  confound  the  things  v/hich 
are  mighty  %  ;  that  his  religion  might  not  be  eftabliilied  by 
the  enticing  words  of  man's  v,- ifdom,  but  by  demcnftratiou 

*  I  Cor.  i.  a6.        t  Matth.  iv-  iS— az.        \  i  Cor.  i.  37> 
G   2 


fJ4  LECTURE     V. 

of  the  fpirit  and  of  power  ;  that  our  faith  fhould  not  flan<3[ 
in  the  wifdom  of  men,  but  in  the  power  of  God  *." 

Such  were  the  afTociates  chofen  by  him,  who  was  the  del* 
egate  of  heaven,  and  whofe  help  was  from  above.  We 
may  expect  therefore  that  an  impollor,  who  meant  to  rely 
on  6uman  means  for  fuccefs,  would  take  a  diredly  contrary 
courfe.  And  this  v/e  find  in  fad:  to  be  the  cafe.  Who 
were  the  companions  and  affiilants  feledled  by  the  grand 
impoftor  Mahomet  ?  They  were  men  of  the  moft  weight 
and  authority,  and  rank  and  influence,  among  his  country- 
men. The  reafon  is  obvious ;  he  wanted  fuch  fupports ; 
Chrifc  did  not ;  and  hence  the  marked  difference  of  their 
conclu<5l  in  this  inftance.  It  is  the  natural  difference  between 
truth  and  impofture.  Tliat  the  power  cf  God  and  not  of 
man  was  the  foundation  on  which  our  Lord  meant  to  ere<5t 
his  new  fyilem,  very  foon  appeared  ;  for  the  next  thing  we 
hear  of  him  is,  that  he  "  went  about  all  Galilee  teaching 
in  their  f^Tiagogues,  and  preaching  the  gofpel  of  the  king- 
dom, and  healing  all  manner  of  ficknefs  and  all  manner  of 
difaafe  among  the  peoplef." 

Here  then  began  that  demonstration  of  the  spirit 
AND  OF  POWER,  v/hich  v/as  to  be  the  grand  bafis  of  his 
new  kingdom,  the  great  evidence  of  his  heavenly  miflion. 
It  is  indeed  probable  that  the  wifdom  and  the  authority 
with  which  he  fpake,  and  the  v/eight  and  importance  of  the 
doflnnes  he  taught,  would  of  themfelves  make  a  deep  im- 
prefilon  on  the  minds  of  his  hearers,  and  produce  him  fome 
followers.  But  had  he  ftopt  here,  had  he  given  his  new 
difciples  nothing  but  words,  their  zeal  and  attachment  to 
him  would  foon  have  abated.  For  it  was  natural  for  thefe 
converts  to  fay  to  him,  "  You  have  called  upon  us  to  repent 
and  to  reform ;  you  hav^  commanded  us  to  renounce  cur 
vices,  to  relinquilh  our  favourite  pleafures  and  purfuits,  to 
give  up  the  world  and  its  enjoyments,  and  to  take  up  our 
crofs  and  follow  you  ',  and  in  return  for  this  you  promife  us 
diflinguifhed  happinefs  and  honour  in  your  fpiritual  king- 
dom. You  fpake,  it  is  true,  moft  forcibly  to  our  confciences 
^d  to  our  hearts ;    and  we  feel  ftrongly  difpofed  to  obey 

*  ;  Cor.  ii.  4,  5.  f  M?.tth.  iv.  «5. 


LECTURE    V.  75 

your  injun^ions,  and  to  credit  your  promifes ;  but  ftill  the 
iacrifice  we  are  required  to  make  is  a  great  one,    and  the 
conflid  we  have  to  go  through  is  a  bitter  one.     We  find  it 
a  moft  painful  ftruggle  to  fubdue  confirmed  habits,  and  to 
part  at  once  with  all  our  accuflcmed  pleafures  and  indul- 
gences.    Before  then  we  can  entirely  reiinquilh  thefe,  and 
make  a  complete  change  in  the  temper  of  our  fouls  and  the 
conduct  of  our  lives,  we  muil  have  fome  convincing  proof 
that  you  have  a  right  to  require  this  compliance   at  our 
hands  ;  that  what  you  enjoin  us  is  in  reality  the  command 
of  God  himfelf ;    that  you  are  a(5tualiy  fent  from  heaven, 
and   ccmmifhoned  by  him  to  teach  us  his  will,    and  to  in- 
llru^l  us  in  our  duty  ;  that  the  kingdom  you  hold  out  to  us 
in  another  world  is  fcmething  m^ore  than  micre  imagination : 
that  you  are^in  fhort  what  you  pretend  to  be,  the  Son  of 
God  ;  and  that  you  are  able  to  make  good  the  punifl.ment 
you  denounce  againft  fm,  and  the  rewards  you  prcmife  to 
virtue." 

Our  Lord  well  knew  that  this  fort  of  reafoning  mufl  occur 
to  every  man's  mind.  He  knew  that  it  was  highly  proper 
and  indifpenfably  necelTary  to  give  feme  evidence  of  his 
divine  commiflion,  to  do  something  which  fliould  fatisrj^ 
the  world  that  he  was  the  Sen  of  God,  and  the  delegate  of 
heaven.  And  how  could  he  do  this  fo  effedually  as  by 
perform.ing  works  which  it  utterly  exceeded  all  the  ftrengtli 
and  ability  of  m.an  to  accomplifh,  and  which  nothing  iefs 
than  the  hand  of  God  himfelf  could  pcfTibly  bring  to  pafs  ? 
In  other  -words,  the  proofs  he  gave  of  his  miiflion  were  thcfe 
aflonifhing  miracles  w^hich  are  recorded  in  the  Gofpel,  and 
which  are  here  for  the  f  rft  time  mentioned  by  St.  Matthew 
in  the  2Sd  verfe  of  this  chapter  :  "  And  Jefus  went  about 
all  Galilee,  teaching  in  their  fynagogues,  and  preaching 
the  gofpel  of  the  kingdom,  and  heahng  all  manner  of  fick- 
?iefs  and  all  manner  of  difeafe  among  the  people." 

This  then  is  the  primary,  the  fundamental  evidence  of 
his  divine  authority,  which  our  Lord  was  pleafed  to  give  to 
his  followers.  His  firil  application,  as  v/e  have  fetn,  was 
(like  that  of  his  precurfcr,  John  the  Baptift)  to  their  /Wr/^j 
1*  REPENT   ye/*  lay  afide  your  vices  and  your  prejudicgs.^^ 


75  L  E  C  T  U  R  E    V. 

Till  this  was  done,  till  thefe  grand  obftacles  to  the  admif- 
fion  of  truth  were  removed,  he  well  knew  that  all  he  could 
fay  and  all  he  could  do  would  have  no  efFed  ;  they  would 
not  be  moved  either  by  his  exhortations  or  his  miracles, 
^^  they  would  not  be  perfuaded  though  one  rofe  from  the 
dead*/'  And  in  fad  we  find  that  feveral  of  the  pharifces, 
men  abandoned  to  vice  and  wickednefs,  did  adually  refift 
the  miracles  of  Chriii,  and  the  refurrea;ion  of  a  man  from 
the  grave ;  they  afcribed  his  cafting  out  devils  to  Beelze- 
bub ;  they  were  not  convinced  by  the  cure  of  the  blind  man, 
and  the  raifnig  of  Lazarus  from  the  dead,  though  they 
faw  them  both  before  their  eyes,  one  reftored  to  fight,  the 
©ther  to  life.  This  plainly  proves  how  far  the  power  of  fin 
and  of  prejudice  will  go  in  clofmg  up  all  the  avenues  of  the 
mind  againft  convidion  ;  and  how  wifely  our  Saviour  adt- 
«d  in  calling  upon  his  hearers  to  repent,  before  he  offered 
any  evidence  to  their  underftandings.  But  the  way  being 
thus  cleared,  the  evidence  was  then  produced,  and  the  ef- 
fecl  it  had  was  fuch  as  might  be  expected  ;  for  St.  Matthew 
tells  us,  that  his  fame  went  throughout  all  Syria  ;  and  that 
there  followed  him  great  multitudes  of  people  from  Galilee, 
and  from  Decapolis,  and  from  Jerufalem,  and  from  Judea, 
and  from  beyond  Jordan  f ;  that  is,  from  every  quarter  of 
his  own  country  and  the  adjoining  nations. 

And  indeed  it  can  be  no  wonder  that  fuch  multitudes 
were  convinced  and  converted  by  what  they  faw.  The 
wonder  would  have  been  if  they  had  not.  To  thofe  who 
were  themfelves  eye-witneffes  of  his  miracles,  they  mud 
have  been  (except  in  a  few  inftances  of  inveterate  depravity 
of  heart)  irrefiftible  proofs  of  his  divine  miffion.  When 
5hey  faw  him  give  eyes  to  the  blind,  feet  to  the  lame,  health 
to  the  fick,  and  even  life  to  the  dead,  by  fpeaking  only  a 
lew  words,  what  other  conclufion  could  they  poffibly  draw 
than  that  which  tlie  centurion  did,  truly  this  'was  the  Son  of 
God-^,  To  us  indeed  who  have  not  feen  thefe  mighty 
works,  and  wdio  live  at  the  diftance  of  eighteen  hundred 
jeai's  iVom  the  time  when  they  were  wrought,  the  force  of 
this  evidence  is  undoubtedly  lefs  than  it  was  to  an  eye  wit- 
-fiefs.     But  if  the  reality  of  thefe  miracles  is  proved  to  us 

'...';c,  >:vi.    II.         •\M:\i'i.\\,  iv.  J4,  25.         j:  Matth.  xxvii.  54. 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E    V.  77 

"hy  fufficient  teftimony,  by  teflimony  fuch  as  no  ingenuous 
and  unprejudiced  mind  can  withfland,  they  ought  Itill  to 
produce  in  us  the  firmeft  belief  of  the  divine  power  of  him 
who  wrought  them*. 

It  mufl  be  admitted  at  the  fame  time,  that  thefe  mira- 
cles, being  facls  of  a  very  uncommon  and  very  extraor- 
dinary nature,  fuch  as  have  never  happened  in  our  o^vn 
times,  and  but  very  feldom  even  ia  former  times,  they  re- 
quire a  much  flronger  degree  of  teftimony  to  fupport  them 
than  common  hiftorical  fa<5ls.  And  this  degree  of  tefti- 
mony they  adually  have.  They  are  fupported  by  a  body 
of  evidence  fully  adequate  to  the  cafe ;  ^lly  competent  to 
outweigh  all  the  difadvantages  arifmg  from  the  great  dif- 
tance  and  the  aftonifhing  nature  of  the  events  in  queftion. 

1.  In  the  fir  ft  place,  thefe  miracles  are  recorded  in  four 
different  hiftories,  written  very  near  the  time  of  their  be- 
ing performed,  by  four  different  men,  Matthew,  Mark,^ 
Luke,  and  John ;  two  of  v/hom  faW  thefe  miracles  with 
their  own  eyes  ;  the  other  two  had  their  account  from  them, 
who  did  the  fame  ;  and  affirm,  that  "  tliey  had  a  jberfed 
knowledge  of  every  thing  they  reiatef ." 

They  were  plain  artlefs  men,  without  the  leaft  appear- 
ance of  enthufiafm  or  credulity  about  them,  and  rather 
flow  tlian  forward  to  believe  any  thing  extraordinary  and 
out  of  the  common  courfe  of  nature.  They  were  perfe<5t-r 
ly  competent  to  judge  of  plain  matters  of  fa6i,  of  things 
which  pafied  before  their  eyes,  and  could  certainly  teli^ 
without  the  leaft  poflibility  of  being  miftaken,  v/hether 
a  perfon  whom  they  knew  to  be  blind  was  a.S:n2lly  reftored 
to  fight,  and  a  perfon  whom  they  knew  to  be  dead  was 
raifed  to  life  again  by  a  few  words  fpoken  by  their  maften 
They  were  men,  who,  from  the  fimplicity  of  their  maH- 
ners,  were  not  at  all  likely  to  invent  and  publifti  falfehoods 
of  fo  extraordinary  a  nature;  much  lefs  falfehoods  by  which 
they  could  gain  nothing,  and  did  in  fa6t  lofe  every  thing. 
There  is  not  therefore,  from  the  peculiar  charader  of  thefe" 

*  Mr.  Hume's  abftrufe  and  fophlftical  argument  againfi;  miracles,  kzs 
oeen  completely  refu<eU  by  Drs.  Adams,  Campbell,  sad  Paley. 
f  Luke,  i-  3- 


tS  L  E  C  T  U  R  E     V. 

pcrfons,  the  leaft  ground  for  difbelieving  the  reality  of  ^nf 
tiling  thev  relate.  Nor  is  tliere  any  reafon  to  doubt  wheth- 
er the  writings  we  now  have  under  their  names  are  thofe 
which  they  adually  wrote.  They  have  been  received  ai 
fuch  ever  fince  tliey  were  publilhed  ;  nor  has  any  one  argu- 
ment been  yet  produced  againft  their  authenticity  which  has 
not  been  repeatedly  and  effedlually  confuted. 

2.  It  is  a  very  (Irong  circumftance  in  favor  of  our  Sav- 
iour's miracles,  that  they  were  related  by  contemporary 
hiflorians,  by  thofe  who  were  eye-witneffes  of  them,  and 
v/ere  afterwards  acknowledged  to  be  true  by  thofe  who  liv- 
ed nearell  to  the  times  in  which,  they  were  wrought ;  and 
what  is  fiill  more  to  tlie  point,  by  many  who  v/ere  hoftil^ 
to  the  Ghriftian  religion.  Even  the  emperor  Julian  himfelf, 
tliat  moil  bitter  adverfary  of  Chriflianity,  v/ho  had  openly 
apc'ftatized  from  it  who  profefied  the  rrioll  Implacable  ha- 
tred to  it,  Vv^ho  employed  all  his  ingenuity,  all  his  accute- 
ncfs  and  learning,  which  were  confiderabie,  in  combating 
the  truth  of  it,  in  difplaying  in  the  ftrongeft  colours  every 
objeftion  he  could  raife  Up  againft  it ;  even  /le  did  not  deny 
tiie  reality. o^ our  Lord's  miracles.*  He  admitted  that  Jefus 
wrought  them,  but  contended  that  he  wrought  them  by 
tJ^e  power  cf  magic. 

:?.  Unlefs  we  admit  that  the  founder  of  our  religion  did 
aftualiy  work  the  miracles  afcribed  to  him  by  his  hiftoriansy 
it  is  utterly  impoffible  to  account  for  the  fuccefs  and  eftablifh- 
ment  of  hisVeligion.  It  ?could  not,  in  fhort,  to  all  apper- 
ance^  have  been  eftablifhed  by  any  other  means. 

Confider  onlyfor  a  moment  what  the  apparent  conditon  of 
cur  Lord  was,  v^^hen  he  firft  announced  his  mifHon  among 
tlie  Jews,  v/hat  his  pretenfions  and  what  his  dodtries  were, 
and  then  judge  what  kind  of  a  reception  he  muft  have  met 
with  am.ong  the  Jews,  had  his  preaching  been  accompanied 
by  no  miracles.     A  young  man  of  no  education,  bom  n\ 

*  Julian  apud  Cyrillum,  L.  vi,  viii.  r.  Celfus  alfo  acknowledged 
the  truth  of  the  gofpel  miracles  in  general,  but  afcribed  them  to  the  af- 
fiftance  of  demons.  "  The  Chriftians,  fays  he,  ftem  to  prev.illy 
daimonon  tinZn  onovrjf;  hai  hataUefrft,  by  virtue  of  the  names  and  the  invo- 
cation  of  certain  dcnioas,"     Orig.  coiitra  Celfum,  cd,  Cantab.  1.  »•  p.  7  • 


LECTURE    V.  1§ 

kh  obfcure  village,  of  obfcure  parents,  without  any  of  tlicfe 
very  brilliant  talents  or  exterior  accomplifhments  which  uf- 
nally  captivate  the  hearts  of  men  ;  without  having  previa, 
oufly  written  or  done  any  thing  that  fhouid  excite  the  ex- 
pectation, or  attrad  the  attention  and  admiration  of  the 
world,  offers  himfelf  at  once  to  the  Jewilh  nation,  not 
merely  as  a  preacher  of  morality,  but  as  a  teacher  fent 
from  heaven  ;  nay  what  is  more  as  the  Son  of  God  him- 
felf, and  as  that  great  deliverer,  the  Mefilah,  who  had 
been  fo  long  predided  by  the  prophets,  and  was  then  fo 
anxioufly  expe<5led,  and  eagerly  looked  for  by  the  Jewifh. 
people.  He  called  upon  this  people  to  renounce  at  once  a 
great  part  of  the  religion  of  their  fcrefatliers,  and  to  adopt 
that  which  he  propofed  to  them  ;  to  relinquilh  all  their 
fond  ideas  of  a  fplendid,  a  victorious,  a  triumphant  Meffi- 
ah,  and  to  accept  in  his  room  a  defpifed,  a  perfecuted,  and 
a  crucified  mafter  :  he  required  them  to  give  up  all  their 
former  prejudices  fiiperftitions,  and  traditions,  all  their  fa- 
vourite rites  and  ceremonies,  and  w^hat  was  perhaps  Pall 
dearer  to  tliem,  their  favourite  vices  and  propenfities,  their 
hypocrify,  their  rapacioufnefs,  their  voluptuoufnefs.  In- 
fiead  of  exterior  forms  he  prefcribed  fanctity  cf  manners  ; 
inftead  of  walhing  their  hands,  and  m^aking  clean  their 
platters,  he  commanded  them  to  purify  their  hearts  and 
reform  ther  lives.  Inftead  of  indulging  in  eafe  and  luxury, 
he  called  upon  them  to  take  up  their  crofs  and  follow  him 
through  forrows  and  fufferings ;  to  pluck  out  a  right  eye, 
and  to  cut  off  a  right  arm. ;  to  leave  father,  mother,  breth-, 
ren,  and  fillers,  for  his  name's  fake,  and  the  gofpel. 

What  now  fhall  we  fay  to  dodrines  fuch  as  thefe  deliver^ 
e<l  by  filch  a  perfon  as  our  Lord  appeared  to  be  ?  Is  it 
probable,  is  it  poffible  that  the  reputed  fon  of  a  poor  me- 
chanic could,  by  the  m.ere  force  of  argum.ent  or  perfuafion, 
induce  vail  numbers  cf  his  countrym.en  to  em-brace  opin- 
ions and  pradices  fo  diredly  oppofite  to  every  propenfity* 
of  their  hearts,  to  every  fentiment  they  had  im/bibed,  eve- 
ry principle  they  had  aded  upon  from  their  earlieil  years  ? 
Yet  the  fad  is,  that  he  did  prevail  on  multitudes  to  do  fo  ; 
and  therefore  he  mujl  have  had  m.eans  of  convidion  fuperior 
to  all  human  eloquence  or  reafoning  j  that  is?  he  muft  hava 


m  L  E  C  T  U  R  E    V. 

convinced  his  hearers  by  the  mh'acles  he  wrought,  that  all 
power  in  heaven  and  in  earth  was  given  to  him,  and  that 
every  precept  he  delivered,  and  every  doftrine  he  taught, 
^as  the  voice  of  God  himfelf.  Without  this  it  is  utterly 
im^oflible  to  give  any  tational  account  of  his  fuccefs. 

In  order  to  fet  this  argument  in  a  ftill  ftronger  point  of 
view,  let  us  confider  what  the  eire6l  acl:ually  was  in  a  cafe 
where  a  new  religion  was  propofed  without  any  fupport 
from  miracles.  That  fame  impoftcr  Mahomet,  to  whom 
I  before  alluded,  began  his  million  with  every  advantage 
that  could  arife  from  perfonal  figure,  from  infmuating 
manners,  from  a  commanding  eloquence,  from  an  ardent 
enterprifmg  fpirit,  from  confiderable  wealth,  and  from  power- 
ful connexions.  Yet  with  all  thefe  advantages,  and  with 
every  artifice  and  every  dexterous  contrivance  to  recom- 
mend his  new  religion  to  his  countrymen,  in  the  fpace  of 
three  years  he  made  only  about  fix  converts,  and  thofe  prin- 
cipally of  his  own  family,  relations,  and  moft  intimate 
£  iends.  And  his  progrefs  was  but  very  flow  for  nine  years 
iifter  this,  till  he  began  to  make  ufe  of  force ;  and  then 
his  vifcorious  arms,  not  his  arguments,  carried  his  religion 
triumphantly  over  almoft  all  the  eaftem  world. 

It  appears  therefore,  that  without  the  affillance  either  of 
miracles  or  of  the  fword,  no  religion  can  be  propagated 
\vith  fjch  rapidity,  and  to  fuch  an  extent,  as  the  Chriftian 
\s^a3,  both  during  cur  Saviour's  life  time,  and  after  his  death. 
For  there  is,  I  believe,  no  inftance  in  the  hiilory  of  man- 
kind of  fuch  an  elfed  being  produced,  without  either  the  one 
or  tile  other.  Nov/  of  force  we  know  that  Jefus  never  did 
make  ufe  ;  the  unavoidable  confequence  is,  that  the  mira- 
icles  afcribed  to  him  were  adlually  v/rought  by  him. 

4'.  Thefe  miracles  being  wrought  not  in  the  midft  of 
friends,  who  were  difpofed  to  favor  them,  but  of  moft  bit- 
ter and  determined  enemies,  whofs  paiTions  and  vdiofe  pre- 
judices were  ail  up  in  arms,  all  vigorous  and  adiive  againil 
them  and  their  author,  we  may  reft  afTured  that  no  falfe 
pretence  to  a  fupematural  power,  no  frauds,  no  coUufions, 
no  impofitions,  would  be  fuffered  to  pafs  un detected  and 
rrnexpofed,    that  every    fmgle    miracle    would  be    moft 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E     V.  81 

critically  and  moft  rigoronflj  fifted  and  enquired  into,  and 
no  art  left  unemployed  to  deftroy  their  credit  and  counter- 
aft  their  effe<5t.  And  this  in  faft  we  find  to  be  the  cafe. — 
Look  into  the  ninth  chapter  of  St.  John,  and  yon  will 
fee  with  v/hat  extreme  care  and  diligence,  with  what  anx- 
iety and  folicitude  the  pharifees  examined,  and  re-examin- 
ed, the  blind  man  tliat  was  reftored  to  fight  by  our  Sav- 
iour, and  what  pains  they  took  to  perfuade  him,  and  to 
make  him  fay,  that  he  was  not  reftored  to  fight  by  Jefus. 

«  They  brought,"  fays  St.  John,  "  to  the  pharifees 
him  that  aforetime  was  blind  ;  and  the  pharifees  allied 
liim  how  he  had  received  his  fight.  And  he  faid  unto 
them,  Jefus  put  clay  upon  mine  eyes  and  I  waihed,  and 
did  fee.  A  plaia  and  fimple  and  honeft  relation  of  the 
fad.  But  the  Jews,  not  content  with  tliis,  called  for  his 
parents,  and  afked  them,  faying.  Is  this  your  fon  who  ye 
fay  was  bom  blind  i  How  then  doth  he  now  fee  ?  His 
parents,  afraid  of  bringing  themfelves  into  danger,  very 
difcreetly  anfvvered,  We  know  that  this  is  our  fon,  and 
tliat  he  was  bom  blind  ;  but  by  v/hat  means  he  nov7  feeth 
we  know  not,  or  vrho  hath  opened  his  eyes  we  know  not  ; 
he  Is  of  age,  aik  him,  he  iaall  fpeak  for  himfelf.  They 
then  called  the  man  again,  and  faid  to  him.  Give  God  the 
praife,  we  know  that  this  man  (meaning  Jefus)  is  a  fmner. 
The  man's  anfwer  is  admirable  :  Whether  he  be  a  fmnef 
or  no,  I  know  not  ;  but  this  I  know,  that  vvhereas  I  was 
blind,  now  I  fee.-— Since  the  world  began,  was  it  not 
known  that  any  man  opened  the  eyes  of  one  that  was  bora 
blind.  If  this  man  were  not  of  God,  he  could  do  notliing. 
And  they  anfwered  him  and  faid.  Thou  waft  altogether 
bom  in  fin,  and  doft  tJjou  teach  us  ?  And  they  caft  him 
out."  A  very  efieftual  way  it  muft  be  confeiTed  of  confu* 
ting  a  miracle. 

The  whole  of  this  narrative  (from  v/hich  I  have  only 
feleded  a  few  of  the  moft  ftriking  pafTages)  is  highly  cu- 
rious and  inftruftive,  and  would  furnilh  am^ple  matter  for 
a  variety  of  very  important  remarks.  But  the  only  ufe 
i  mean  to  make  of  it  at  prefent,  is  to  obferve,  that  it 
proves,  in  the  cleareft  manner,  hoV/  very  much  awake  and 

H 


82  ■  L  E  C  T  U  R  E    V. 

alire  the  Jews  were  to  every  part  of  onr  Saviour- s  conduct. 
It  fhews  that  his  miracles  were  prefented  not  to  perfons 
prepofTelTed  and  prejudiced  in  his  favor,  not  to' inattentive 
or  negligent,  or  credulous  fpedtators,  but  to  acute,  and  in- 
quifitive,  and  hoftiic  obfervers,  to  men  difpoled  and  able 
to  deted  impofture  wlierever  it  could  be  found.  And  it  is 
utterly  impofTible  that  the  miracles  of  Chrift  could  have 
palfed  the  fiery  ordeal  of  fo  much  fhrev/dnefs  and  fagaci- 
ty,  and  authority,  and  m.alignity  united,  if  they  had  not 
been  carried  through  it  by  the  irrefiftible  forte  of  truth, 
and  of  that  divine  power  which  nothing  could  ref:ft. 

5.  The  miracles  of  our  Lord  were  not  merely  tranfient 
a6ts,  beheld  at  the  moment  with  aitcnifhment,  but  forgot 
as  focn  as  over,  and  productive  of  no  im.portant  confe- 
quences.  They  gave  birth  to  a  nev/  religion,  to  a  new 
mode  of  worihip,  to  feveral  new  and  fmgular  inftitutions, 
fuch  as  the  rite  of  baptifm,  the  facrament  of  the  Lord's 
fupper,  the  appropriation  of  the  ^r/l  day  of  the  week 
to  facred  purpofes,  the  eftablifbment  of  a  diftin6l  order 
of  men  for  the  celebration  of  divine  offices,  and  other 
things  of  the  fame  nature.  Now  this  religion  and  thefe 
inftitutions  fubfift  to  this  day.  And  as  the  books  of  the 
New  Teftament  affirm  that  this  religio-n  and  thefe  inftitu- 
tions were  firft  eftablilhed,  and  afterwards  made  their 
way  by  the  power  of  miracles,  they  are  {landing  teftimo- 
nies  to  the  truth  and  the  reality  of  thofe  miracles,  v/ithcut 
which  thev  could  never  have  taken  fuch  firm  and  deep 
root  at  the  firft,  and  continued  unihaken  through  {o  many 
ages  to  the-prefent  time.  The  magnitude  and  permanent 
cy  of  the  fuperftru6lure  prove  that  it  could  not  have  had  a 
iefs  folid,  a  lefs  fubftantial  foundation. 

6.  And  kftly,  when  we  confider  tlie  great  facrinces 
made  by  the  firft  converts  to  Chriftianity.  particularly  by 
the  apoftles  and  primitive  teachers  of  it ;  hov/  many  deep- 
rooted  prejudices  and  favorite  opinions  they  gave  up  to  it; 
what  a  total  change  it  produced  in  their  difpofition, 
their  temper,  their  manners,  their  principles,  their  habits, 
and  tlie  whole  complexion  of  their  lives ;  what  infinite 
pains  they  took  to  propagate  it ;  how  chearfully  tliey  re» 


LECTURE     V.  33 

Imquiflied  for  this  piirpofe  all  the  eafe,  the  comfort,  ths 
conveniencies,  the  pleafures,  and  tlie  advantages  of  life  ; 
and  inftead  of  them  embraced  labours,  hardfhips,  fuffer- 
ings,  perfeciitions,  torments,  and  death  itfelf ;  we  can- 
not rationally  fuppofe  that  fuch  patience,  refignation, 
fortitude,  magnanimity,  and  perfeverance,  could  poffibly 
be  produced  by  any  lefs  powerful  caufe  than  thofe  eviden- 
ces of  divine  power  exhibited  in  the  miracles  of  Chrift  ; 
which  demonftrably  proved  that  he  and  his  religion  had  a 
divine  original,  and  that  therefore  the  fufferings  they  un- 
derwent for  his  fake  in  the  prefent  life  would  be  amply 
repaid  by  the  glorious  rewards  referved  for  them  hereaf- 
ter. 

When,  therefore,  we  put  together  all  thefe  confidera- 
tions,  they  can  leave  no  doubt  on  any  unprejudiced  mind, 
that  the  account  given  in  this  chapter  of  the  frrft  com- 
mencement of  our  Saviour's  miniftry,  and  the  reafons  of  his 
aftonifliing  fuccefs,  are  perfe<fdy  accurate  and  true  ;  name- 
ly, "  that  he  went  about  all  Galilee,  teaching  in  the  fyna- 
gogues,  and  preaching  the  gcfpel  of  the  kingdom,  and 
healing  all  manner  of  ficknefs,  and  all  manner  of  difeafe 
among  the  people."  And  our  conclufion  from  this  muft 
necelTarily  be  the  fame  with  that  of  the  great  Jewifh  rul- 
ers, who,  with  a  laudable  anxiety  to  know  the  truth, 
came  to  Jefus  by  night,  and  addreffed  him  in  thefe  words  : 
"  Rabbi,  we  know  that  thou  art  a  teacher  come  from 
God  :  for  no  man  can  do  thefe  miracles  that  thou  doefty  excepi 
God  be  ivith  him"* 

*  John,  iii,  »* 


>-*-l'l'<"<-<"<<'<-'<"<"<"<-<'<'<"<"<-<-<-<  •<•'<••<>•■>•>••>•>••>'>••>*>'•>•♦•  >">">'*">"^'>"*"*'**'* 


LECTURE     VI. 


MATTH.     Chap.  v. 


o 


UR  blefled  Lord  having  by  his  miracles  ef- 
tablifhed  his  divine  authority,  and  acquired  of  courfe  a 
right  to  the  attention  of  his  hearers,  and  a  powerful  influ- 
ence over  their  minds,  proceeds  in  the  next  place  to  ex- 
plain to  them  in  fome  degree  the  nature  of  his  religion, 
the  duties  it  enjoins,  and  the  difpofitions  it  requires.  This 
he  does  in  what  is  commonly  called  his  fermon  on  the 
mount ;  which  is  a  difcourfe  of  confiderable  length,  be- 
ing extended  through  this  and  the  two  following  chapters  ; 
and  we  may  venture  to  fay  it  contains  a  greater  variety  of 
new,  important,  and  excellent  moral  recepts,  than  is  any 
where  to  be  found  in  the  fame  compafs.  At  the  fame 
time  it  does  not  pretend  to  give  a  regular,  complete,  and 
perfed  fyftem  of  ethics,  or  to  lay  down  rules  for  the  reg- 
ulation of  our  condu(5t  in  every  poffible  inftance  that  can 
arife.  This  would  have  been  an  endlefs  taik,  and  would 
have  multiplied  precepts  to  a  degree  that  would  in  a  great 
meafure  have  defeated  their  utility  and  deftroyed  their  ef- 
fect.* Our  Lord  took  the  v/ifer  and  more  impreffive  method 
of  tracing  out  to  us  only  the  great  outlines  of  our  duty,  of 
giving  us  general  principles  and  comprehenfive  rules, 
which  we  may  ourfelves  apply  to  particular  cafes,  and  the 
Various  fituations  in  which  we  may  be  placed. 

He  begins  with  difcribing  thofe  difpofitions  and  virtues 
tvhich  mark  tlie  Chriftian  chara^er,  in  which  the  Gofpel 
peculiarly  delights,  but  which  the  world  defpifes  and 
xejeds. 

«  Blefled,  fays  he,  are  the  poor  in  fpirit,  for  theirs  Is 
the  kingdom  of  God. 

*  Vid.  John,  xxi.  25. 


66  L  E  C  T  U  R  E     VI, 

BlefTed  are  they  that  mourn,  for  they  fhall  be  comforted. 

BlelTed  are  the  meek,  for  they  Ihall  inherit  the  earth* 

BlefTed  are  they  which  do  hunger  and  thirft  after  right- 
eoufnefs,  for  they  fhall  be  filled. 

BlefTed  are  the  merciful,  for  they  fhall  obtain  mercy« 

BlefTed  are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  fliall  fee  God. 

Bleffed  are  the  peace-makers,  for  they  Ihall  be  called 
^;he  children  of  God. 

BlefTed  are  they  which  are  perfecuted  for  righteoufnefs 
fake,  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

BlefTed  are  ye  when  men  fhall  revile  you,  and  perfecute 
you,  and  fhall  fay  all  manner  of  evil  againfl  you  falfely 
for  my  fake  :  rejoice  and  be  exceeding  glad,  for  great  is 
your  reward  in  heaven."* 

It  is  evident  that  our  Lord  here  ment  at  the  very  outfet 
of  his  public  inflrudions,  to  mark  at  once  in  the  flrongeft 
and  mofl  decided  terms  the  peculiar  temper,  fpirit,  and 
character  of  his  religion  ;  and  to  fhew  to  his  difciples 
how  completely  oppofite  they  were  to  all  thofe  fplendid  and 
popular  qualities  vvhich  were  the  great  objefts  of  admira- 
tion and  applaufe  to  the  heathen  world  ;  and  are  ftill  too 
much  fo  even  to  the  Chriflian  world,  "  There  are  (as  a 
very  able  advocate  for  Chriftianity  well  obfervesf)  two 
oppofite  charaders  under  v^.'-hich  m.ankind  may  generally  be 
clalVed.  The  one  pofTefTes  vigour,  firmnefs,  refolution, 
is  daring  and  adlive,  quick  in  its  fenfibilities,  jealous  of 
its  fame,  eager  in  its  attachments,  inflexible  in  its  purpoi> 
es,  violent  in  its  refentments. 

The  other,  meek,  yielding,  complying,  forgiving ; 
not  prom.pt  to  aft,  but  willing  to  fuffcr  ;  filent  and  gentle 
under  rudenefs  and  infult ;  fuing  for  reconciliation  wher^ 
Otliers  would  demand  fatisfaftion  ;  giving  way  to  the  pufh- 
es  of  impudence  ;  conceding  and  indulgent  to  the  preju- 
*  Matth.  V,  3— J  a,  f  Dr.  Paley,  V.  ii,  p.  30» 


LECTURE    VI.  S7 

dices,  the  wrongheadedriefs,    the  intradlabllity  of   thofe 
with  whom  he  has  to  deal/' 

The  former  of  thefe  characters  is  and  ever  has  been  the 
favourite  of  the  world  ;  and  though  it  is  too  ftem  to  con- 
ciliate afFedion,  yet  it  has  an  appearance  of  dignity  in 
it  which  too  commonly  commands  lefpecl. 

The  latter  is,  as  our  Lord  defcribes  it,  Iramble,  meek, 
lowly,  devout,  merciful,  pure,  peaceable,  patient,  and 
mirefifting.  The  world  calls  it  mean-fpirited,  tame,  and 
abjeft ;  yet,  notwithftanding  all  this,  with  the  divine  Au- 
thor of  cur  religion  this  is  the  favourite  characler  ;  this 
js  the  conftant  topic  of  his  commendation  ;  this  is  the  fub- 
je6l  that  runs  through  all  the  beatitudes.  To  this  he  af- 
figns,  under  all  its  various  forms,  peculiar  bledings.  To 
thofe  who  polTefs  it,  he  promifes  that  they  fhall  inherit  the 
earth  ;  that  they  fliall  obtain  mercy  ;  that  theirs  fnall  be 
the  kingdom  of  heaven;  that  tliey  fhall  fee  God,  and 
ihall  be  called  the  children  of  God, 

The  recommendation  of  this  charader  recurs  frequent- 
ly in  different  fhapes  throughout  the  whole  of  the  fermoa 
on  the  mount,  and  a  great  part  of  that  difcourle  is  noth- 
ing more  than  a  comment  on  the  text  of  the  beatitudes. — 
On  thefe  and  a  few  other  palfages  which  have  any  thing 
particularly  novel  and  important  in  them,  I  fhall  offer 
ibme  obfervations. 

But  before  I  quit  this  noble  and  confolatory  exordium  of 
our  Lord's  difcourfe,  I  fnall  requeft  your  attention  to  one 
particular  part  of  it,  which  leems  to  require  a  little  expla- 
nation. 

The  part  I  allude  to  is  this  : '  "  Bleffed  are  the  meek, 
for  they  fhall  inherit  the  earth." 

The  blefTmg  here  promifed  to  the  meek,  feems  at  firft 
fight  fomewhat  fmgular,  and  not  very  appropriate  to  the 
virtue  recommended. 

That  the  meeh  of  all  others  fnould  be  deflined  to  inherit 
the  earth,  is  what  one  ihould  not  naturally  have  expeded. 


m  L  E  C  T  U  R  E     VI. 

If  we  may  judge  from  what  pafies  in  the  world,  it  is  thoie 
of  a  quite  oppofite  charader,  the  bold,  the  forward,  the 
active,  the  enterprifmg,  the  rapacious,  the  ambitious, 
that  are  beft  calculated  to  fecure  to  themfelves  that  inherit- 
ance. And  undoubtedly,  if  by  inheriting  the  earth  is 
meant  acquiring  the  wealth,  the  grandeur,  the  power, 
the  property  of  the  earth,  thefe  are  the  perfons  who 
generally  feize  on  a  large  proportion  of  thofe  good 
things,  and  leave  the  m.eek,  and  the  gentle  far  behind 
t]iem  in  this  unequal  conteft  for  fuch  advantages.  But 
it  was  far  other  things  than  thefe  our  Lord  had  in 
view.  By  inheriting  the  earth,  he  meant  inheriting  thofe- 
things  which  are,  without  quefiion,  the  greateft  hhjfmgs 
tipon  earth,  caimnefs  and  com-pofure  of  fpirit,  tranquil- 
ity, cheerfulnefs,  peace  and  comfort  of  m.ind.  Now 
thefe,  I  apprehend,  are  the  peculiar  portion  and  recom- 
pence  of  th  e  meeh.  Unaffuming,  gentle,  and  humble  in 
their  deportment,  they  give  no  offence,  they  create  no 
enemxies,  they  provoke  no  hoftilities,  and  thus  efcape  all 
that  large  proportion  of  hum.an  mifery  which  arifes  from 
difienfions  and  difputes.  If  differences  dq  unexpe<£ledly 
Hart  up,  by  patience,  mildnefs,  and  prudence, .  they  difn 
ai-m  tlieir  adverfaries,  they  foften  refentment,  they  court 
xeconciliation,  and  feldom  fail  of  reftoring  harmony  and 
peace.  Having  a  very  humble  opinion  of  themfelves, 
they  fee  others  fucceed  without  uneahnefs,  without  envy : 
having  no  ambition,  no  fpirit  of  competition,  they  feel 
no  pain  from  difapp ointment,  no  mortification  from  defeat. 
By  bending  under  the  ftorm.s,  that  affail  them,  they  greatly 
mitigate  their  violence,  and  fee  them  pafs  over  their  heads 
almofl  without  feeling  their  force.  Content  and  fatisfled 
witli  their  lot,  they  pafs  quietly  and  filently  tlrrough  the 
crowds  that  furround  them  ;  and  encounter  much  fewer 
difficulties  and  calamities  in  their  progrefs  through  life 
than  more  adive  and  enterprifmg  m.en.  This  even  tenor 
of  life  may  indeed  be  called  by  men  of  the  world  flat,  dull, 
and  infipid.  But  the  meek  are  excluded  from  no  rational 
pleafure,  no  legitimate  delight ;  and  as  they  are  more  cx- 
em.pt  from  anxiety  and  pain  than  other  men,  their  furn 
total  of  happinefs  is  greater,  and  they  may,  in  the  bell 
fenfc  of  the  word,  be  fairly  faid  to  inherit  the  earth. 


LECTURE    VI.  s^ 

I  fhall  now  proceed  to  notice  fuch  other  paffages  of 
this  admirable  difcourfe,  as  appear  to  me  to  deferv^e  pe- 
cuHar  attention  and  confideration. 

The  firft  of  thefe  is  that  which  begins  with  the  2111 
verfe :  "  Ye  have  heard  that  it  was  faid  by  tliem  of  old 
time,  thou  fhalt  not  kill ;  and  whofoever  fhall  kill,  fhall 
be  in  danger  of  the  judgment ;  but  I  fay  unto  you,  that 
whoever  is  angry  with  his  brother  without  a  caufe,  fhall 
be  in  danger  of  the  judgment ;  and  whofoever  fhall  fay 
to  his  brother,  Raca,  fhall  be  in  danger  of  the  council  • 
but  whofoever  fhall  fay,  thou  fool,  Ihall  be  in  danger  of 
hell  fire."  And  again  in  the  fame  manner  at  tlie  27th 
verfe  :  "  Ye  have  heard  that  it  was  faid  by  them  of  old 
time,  thou  fhalt  not  commit  adultery  ;  but  I  fay  unto  you, 
that  whofoever  looketh  on  a  woman  to  luft  after  her  hath 
committed  adultery  with  her  already  in  his  heart.'* 

I  put  thefe  two  inftances  together,  becaufe  they  both 
enforce  the  fame  great  leading  principle,  and  both  illuf- 
trate  one  great  diflinguifliing  excellence  of  the  morality 
taught  by  our  Saviour  ;  namely,  that  it  does  not  content 
itfelf  with  merely  controlling  our  outward  adions,  but  it 
gees  i^.uch  deeper,  it  impofes  its  reftraints,  it  places  its 
guard  exaaly  where  it  ought  to  do,  on  cur  tlioughts  and 
on  our  hearts.  Our  Lord  here  flngles  out  two  cafes,  re- 
ferring to  two  different  fpecies  of  pafTions,  the  m.alevolent 
and  the  fenfual,  and  he  pronounces  the  fame  fentence,  the 
lamedecifive  judgment  on  both  ;  that  the  thing  to  be  reg- 
ulated is  the  intention  J  the  pajjion,  the  prcpcnf.ty.  Former 
moraiius  contented  themfelves  with  faying,  thou  fhalt  not 
kill.  But  /  (fays  our  Lord)  go  much  further;  /  fay 
thou  fhalt  not  indulge  any  refentmeni  againft  thy  brother, 
thou  fhalt  not  ufe  any  reproachful  or  contemptuous  lan- 
guage towards  him  ;  for  it  is  thefe  tilings  that  lead  and 
provoke  to  the  moft  atrocious  deeds.  Former  moralifts 
have  faid,  thou  fhalt  not  commit  adultery.  But  /  fay, 
let  not  thine  heart  or^thine  eye  commit  adultery  ;  for  here 
it  is  that  the  fm  begins ;  and  here  it  muft  be  crufhed  in  its 

H  2 


95  LECTURE    Vt 

This  IS  wifdom,  this  is  morality  in  its  moft  peifedl  formf 
m  its  eifence,  and  in  its  firft  principles.  Every  one  that  is 
acquainted  with  men  and  manners  muft  know  that  our 
Lord  has  here  ftiewTi  a  confummate  knowledge  of  human 
nature ;  that  he  has  laid  his  finger  on  the  right  place,  and 
exerted  his  authority  where  it  was  moft  wanted,  in  checks 
ing  the  firft  movements  of  our  criminal  defires.  Every 
one  muft  fee  and  feel,  that  bad  thoughts  quickly  ripen  in^ 
to  bad  alliens  ;  and  that  if  the  latter  only  are  forbidden, 
and  the  former  left  free,  all  morality  will  foon  be  at  an 
end.  Our  Lord  therefore,  like  a  wife  phylician,  goes  at 
once  to  the  bottom  of  the  evil ;  he  extirpates  the  firft  germ 
and  root  of  the  difeafe,  and  leaves  not  a  fmgle  fibre  of  it 
remaining  to  fhoot  up  again  in  the  heart, 

It  was  obvious  to  forefee  that  the  dlfciples,  and  the  peo- 
ple to  whom  our  Saviour  addrefted  himfelf,  would  confid- 
er  this  as  very  fevere  difcipline,  and  would  com.plain  bit- 
terly, or  at  leaft  murmur  fecretly,  at  the  hardftiips  of 
parting  with  all  their  favorite  paflions,  of  eradicating 
their  ftrongeft  natural  propenfities,  of  watching  conftant- 
ly  every  motion  of  their  hearts,  and  guarding  thofe  iffues 
of  life  and  death,  thofe  fountains  of  virtue,  and  of  vice, 
with  the  moft  unremitting  attention.  But  all  this  our  di- 
vine mafter  tells  them  is  indifpenfably  neceflary.  All 
thefe  cautions  muft  be  ufed,  all  this  vigilance  muft  be  ex- 
ercifed,  all  this  felf-govemment  muft  be  exerted,  all  thefe 
facrifices  muft  be  made.  It  is  the  price  we  are  to  pay 
(befides  that  price  which  our  Redeemer  paid,)  and  furely 
no  unreafonable  one,  for  efcaping  eternal  mifery,  and  ren- 
dering Gurfelves  capable  of  eternal  glory.  He  therefore, 
goes  on  to  fay,  in  terms  highly  figurative  and  alarming, 
but  not  too  ftrong  for  the  occafion,  "  If  thy  right  eye  of- 
fend thee,  pluck  it  out  and  caft  it  from  thee  ;  for  it  is  profit- 
able for  thee  that  cue  of  thy  members  fhould  peiiili,  and  not 
that  thy  whole  body  ftiould  be  caft  into  hell.  And  if  thy 
right  hand  offend  thee,  cut  it  off  and  caft  it  from,  thee  ;  for 
it  is  profitable  for  thee  that  one  of  thy  members  fhould  per- 
ifh,  and  not  that  thy  v/hcle  body  fhould  be  caft  into  hell*." 
Every  one  muft  immediately  fee  that  the  eye  to  be  plucked 

*  Mattiv  V.  S9,  30. 


1.  E  C  T  U  R  E    Vt  9t 

♦ut  IS  the  eye  of  concupifcence,  and  the  hand  to  be  cut 
oit  is  the  hand  of  violence  and  vengeance ;  that  is,  thefe 
pafTions  are  to  be  checked  and  fubdued,  let  the  conflift 
coft  us  what  it  may. 

This  naturally  leads  our  divine  teacher,  in  the  next  verfe, 
to  a  fubjed  clofely  connefted  with  one  of  our  ftrongeft 
paffions,  and  that  is,  the  power  of  divorce.     Among  the 
Jews  and  the  Heathens,  but  more  particularly  the  latter, 
this  power  was  carried  to  a  great  extent,  and  exercifed  with 
^e  mod  capricious  and  wanton  cruelty.     The  beft  and 
moft  affedionate  of  wives  were  often  difmifTed  for  the 
flighteft  reafons,  and  fometimes  without  any  reafcn  at  all. 
It  was  high  time  for  feme  flop  to  be  put  to  thefe  increafmg 
barbarities,  and  it  was  a  talk  wxrthy  of  the  Son  of  God 
himfelf  to  Hand  up  as  the  defender  and  protedor  of  the 
weak,  of  the  mcft  helplefs  and  moft  opprefTed  part  of  the 
human  fpecies.     Accordingly  he   here  declares,    in  the 
moft  pofitive  term-s,  that  the  only  legitimate  caufe  of  di- 
vorce is  adultery.     "  It  has  been  faid,  whofoever  fhall  put 
av/ay  his  wife,  let  him  give  her  a  writing  of  divorcemient. 
But  I  fay  unto  you,  whofoever  Ihall  put  away  his  wife, 
faving  for  the  caufe  of  fornication,  caufeth  her  to  ccmimit; 
adultery ;  and  whofoever  marrieth  her  that  is  divorced, 
committeth  adultery*.     This  has,  by  the  experience  of 
ages,  been  found  to  be  a  moft  wife  and  falutary  provifion, 
and  no  lefs  conducive  to  the  happinefs  than  to  the  virtue  of 
mankind.     And  we  are  taught  by  the  fatal  example  of 
other  nations,  that  wherever  this  law  of  the  Gofpel  has 
been  abrogated  or  relaxed,  and  a  greater  facility  of  di- 
vorce allowed,  the  confequence  tas  conftantly  been  a  too 
vifible  depravation  of  manners,    and  the  deftrudion  of 
many  of  the  moft  effential  comforts  of  the  married  ftate. 

The  paiTage  to  which  I  ftiall  next  advert,  is  the  follow- 
ing :  "  Ye  have  heard  it  has  been  faid,  an  eye  for  an  eye, 
and  a  tooth  for  a  tooth.  But  /  fay  unto  you,  that  ye  re- 
fift  not  evil ;  but  whofoever  ftiall  imite  thee  on  the  right 
cheek,  turn  to  him  the  other  alfo  ;  and  if  any  man  wiU 
fje  thee  at  the  law,  and  take  away  thy  coat^  let  hinxhav« 


92  L  E  C  T  U  R  E    VI, 

thy  cloak  alfo  ;  and  whofoever  Ihall  compel  thee  to  go  a 
jnile,  go  with  him  twain*." 

By  the  Mofaic  law,  retaliation  was  peimitted  ;  an  eye 
for  an  eye,  and  a  tooth  for  a  tooth,  might  legally  be  de^ 
jnandedf.  Among  the  ancient  heathens,  private  revenge 
was  indulged  without  fcruple  and  without  mercy.  The 
favage  nations  in  America,  as  well  as  in  almoft  every 
other  part  of  the  world,  fet  no  bounds  to  the  perfevering 
rancour  and  the  cool  deliberate  malignity  with  which  they 
will  purfue,  for  years  together,  not  only  the  perfon  him- 
felf  from  whom  they  have  received  an  injury,  but  fome- 
times  every  one  related  to  or  conne<5led  with  him.  The 
Arabs  are  equally  implacable  in  their  refentments ;  and 
the  Koran  itfelf,  in  the  cafe  of  murder,  allows  private 
jrevengej. 

It  was  to  check  this  furious,  ungovernable  paflion,  fo 
univerfally  prevalent  over  the  earth,  that  our  Saviour  de- 
livers the  precepts  now  before  us.  "  I  fay  unto  you  refift 
not  evil ;  but  if  any  one  fmite  thee  on  thy  right  cheek, 
turn  to  him  the  other  alfo."  No  one  can  imagine  that 
this  injundlion,  and  thofe  of  the  fame  kind  that  follow, 
are  to  be  underftood  ftrictly  and  literally  ;  that  we  are  to 
fubmit,  without  the  leaft  oppofition,  to  every  injury  and 
every  infult  that  is  offered  to  us,  and  are  abfolutely  preclu- 
ded from  every  degree  of  felf-prefervation  and  felf-defence. 
This  can  never  be  intended  ;  and  the  example  of  St.  Paul» 
who  repelled  with  proper  fpirit,  the  infult  offered  him  as 
a  Roman  citizen,  veiy  clearly  proves  that  we  are  not  to 
permit  ourfelves  to  be  trampled  on  by  the  foot  of  pride 
and  opprefiion,  without  exprefllng  a  juft  fenfe  of  the  inju- 
ry done  to  us,  and  endeavoring  to  avert  and  repel  it.  It 
cannot  therefore,  be  rneant,  that  if  any  one,  by  a  cruel 
and  expenfive  litigation,  fliould  depnve  us  of  a  part  of 
our  property,  we  fhould  net  only  relinquifh  to  him  that 
part,  but  requeft  him  alfo  to  accept  every  thing  elfe  we 
have  in  the  world.  Nor  can  it  be  meant,  that  if  a  man 
ihould  adually  ftrike  us  on  one  cheek,  we  fhould  immedi- 

*  Matth.  V.  38 — 4r.  f  Levit.  xxiv.  20.     Deut.  xix.  ai< 

\  Koran,  v.  a.  c.  17.  p.  ico- 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E    VL  ^ 

ately  turn  to  him  the  other,  and  defire  the  blow  to  be  re-» 
peated.  This  could  not  poffibly  anfwer  any  one  rational 
purpofe,  nor  conduce  in  the  leaft  to  the  peace  and  happi- 
nefs  of  mankind,  which  were  certainly  the  objeds  our 
Saviour  had  in  view ;  on  the  contrary,  it  would  tend  ma- 
terially to  obftrua  both  by  inviting  injury,  and  encourag- 
ing infult  and  oppreffion.  Common  fenfe  therefore,  as 
well  as  common  utility,  require  that  we  fhould  confider 
the  particular  inftances  of  behaviour  under  the  injuries 
here  fpecified,  as  nothing  more  than  ftrong  oriental  idioms, 
as  proverbial  and  figurative  expreflions,  intended  only  to 
convey  a  general  precept,  and  to  defcribe  that  peculiar 
temper  and  difpofition  which  the  Gofpel  requires  ;  that  pa- 
tience, gentlenefs,  mildnefs,  moderation,  and  forbearance 
under  injuries  and  affronts,  which  isbeft  calculated  to  pre- 
ferve  the  peace  of  our  own  minds,  as  well  as  that  of  the 
world  at  large ;  which  tends  to  foften  refentment  and  turn 
away  wrath  ;  and  without  which,  on  one  fide  or  the  oth- 
er, provocations  muft  be  endlefs,  and  enmities  eternal. 

All  therefore,  that  is  here  required  of  us  is  plainly  and 
fimply  this,  that  we  fliould  not  fuffer  our  refentment  of  in- 
juries to  carry  us  beyond  the  bounds  of  judice,  equity, 
and  Chriftlan  charity ;  that  we  ihould  not  (as  St.  Paul 
well  explains  this  paflage)  recompence  evil  for  evil*,  that  Is, 
repay  one  injury  by  committing  another  ;  that  we  fhould 
not  take  fire  at  every  flight  provocation  or  trivial  offence, 
nor  purfue  even  the  greateft  and  mofl  flagrant  Injuries 
with  inplacable  fury  and  inextlngullhable  rancour  :  that 
we  fhould  make  all  reafonable  allowances  for  the  infirmities 
of  human  nature,  for  the  pafTions,  the  prejudices,  the 
failings,  the  mifapprehenfions  of  thofe  we  have  to  deal 
with;  and  without  fubmltting  tamely  to  oppreffion  or 
infult,  or  giving  up  rights  of  great  and  acknotvledged  impor- 
tance, fhould  always  fhow  a  difpofition  to  conciliate  and 
forgive  ;  and  rather  to  recede  and  give  w^ay  a  little  in 
certain  inftances,  than  infift  on  the  utmofi  fatisfaalon  and 
reparation  that  we  have  perhaps  a  ftrid  right  to  demand. 

*  Rom.  xli,  17. 


e4  LECTURE    Vf. 

The  chapter  concludes  with  another  remarkable  precept? 
which  may  ftridtly  be  called  a  new  commandment ;  for  in 
no  moral  code  is  it  to  be  found,  till  our  Lord  gave  it  a 
place  in  his. 

The  precept  is  this :  "  Ye  have  heard  it  has  been  faid? 
thou  {halt  love  thy  neighbor,  and  hate  thine  enemy. 
But  /  fay  unto  you,  love  your  enemies,  blefs  them  that 
curfe  you,  do  good  to  them  that  hate  you,  and  pray  for 
them  which  defpitefully  ufe  you,  and  perfecute  you  ;  that 
ye  may  be  the  children  of  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven  ; 
for  he  maketh  his  fun  to  rife  on  the  evil  and  on  the  good, 
and  fendeth  rain  on  the  juft  and  oh  the  unjuft*." 

So  noble,  fo  fublime,  and  fo  benevolent  a  precept,  was 
never  before  given  to  man ;  and  it  is  one  ftrong  proof, 
among  many  others,  of  the  originality  of  our  Saviour^s 
charafter  and  religion. 

The  Jews  were  exprefsly  commanded  to  love  their 
neighbor  ;  but  this  injundion  was  not  extended  to  their 
enemies,  and  they  therefore  thought  that  this  was  a  tacit 
permiflion  to  hate  them  ;  a  conclufion  which  feemed  to  be 
much  ftrengthened  by  their  being  enjoined  to  wage  eternal 
war  with  one  of  their  enemies,  the  Canaanites,  to  fhow 
them  no  mercy,  but  to  root  them  out  of  the  land.  In 
confequence  of  this,  they  did  entertain  ftrong  prejudices 
and  malignant  fentiments  toward  every  other  nation  but 
their  own,  and  were  juftly  reproached  for  this  by  the 
Roman  hiftorian  ;  "  apud  ipfos  mifericordia  in  promptu, 
adverfus  omnes  alios  hoftile  odiumf  :"  that  is,  towards 
each  other  they  are  compaffionate  and  kind ;  towards  all 
others  they  cherifii  a  deadly  hatred.  But  it  ought  in- 
juftice  to  be  obferved,  that  this  remark  of  Tacitus  might 
have  been  applied,  with  almoft  equal  aptitude,  both  tO 
his  own  countrymen  the  Romans,  and  to  the  Greeks,  for 
they  gave  to  all  other  nations  but  themfelves  the  name  of 
barbarians  ;  and  having  ftigmatized  them  with  this  oppro- 
brious appellation,  they  treated  them  as  if  they  were  ir> 
reality  what  they  had  wantonly  thought  fit  to  call  them. 

»  Matth.  V.  43—45,  t  TacJt.  Hlft.  v,  r. 


LECTURE    vr,  95 

They  treated  them  with  infolence,  contempt,  and  citielty,* 
They  created  and  carried  on  unceafmg  hoftilities  againft 
them,  and  never  flieathed  the  fword  till  they  had  exter- 
minated or  enflaved  them. 

In  private  live  alfo,  it  was  thought  allowable  to  .purfue 
thofe  with  whom  they  were  at  variance  with  the  keeneft 
refentment  and  moft  implacable  hatred  ;  to  take  every 
opportunity  of  annoying  and  diftreffing  them,  and  not  to 
reft  till  they  had  felt  the  fevereft  effedls  of  unrelenting  ven- 
geance. * 

In  this  fituation  of  the  world,  and  in  this  general  fer- 
ment of  the  malevolent  paflions,  how  feafonable,  how 
falatary,  how  kind,  how  conciliatory  was  the  command 
to  love,  not  only  our  friends,  not  only  our  neighbours, 
not  only  ftrangers,  but  even  our  enemies  !  Hov\^  gracious 
that  injunction,  "  /  fay  unto  you,  love  your  enemies  ;  do 
good  to  them  that  hate  you,  blefs  them  that  curfe  you, 
and  pray  for  them  that  defpitefully  ufe  you,  and  perfecute 
you!"  And  how  touching,  how  irrehftible  is  the  argu- 
ment ufed  to  enforce  it :  "  That  ye  may  be  the  children 
of  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven  ;  for  he  maketh  his  ran 
to  rife  on  the  evil  and  on  the  good,  and  fendeth  rain  on 
the  jaft  and  on  the  unjuft  1" 

It  is  remarkable  that  the  philofcpher  Seneca  makes  ufe 
of  the  fame  argument,  not  exactly  for  the  fame  purpofe, 
but  for  a  fimilar  one.  "  If  (fixys  he)  you  would  imitate 
the  gods,  confer  favors  even  on  the  ungrateful,  for  the 
fun  rifes  on  the  wicked,  and  the  feas  are  open  even  unto 
pirates  :'*  And  again,  "  the  gods  lliow  many  afts  of  kind- 
nefs  even  to  tlie  ungrateful*/'  It  is  highly  probable  that- 
the  philofopher  took  this  fentiment  from  this  very  pailage 
of  Sto  Matthew  ;  for  no  fuch  fublime  morality  is,  I  be- 
lieve, to  be  found  in  any  heathen  v/rlter  previous  to  the 
Chriftian  revelation. 

"  Seneca  flourifhed  and  v*rrote  after  tlie  Gofpels  were  writ- 
ten, after  Chriftianity  had  made  fome  progrefs.     Beiides 

*  Sen.  de.  Benef-  lib.  4-  c.   16    aod  c.  ai. 


0$  XfiCTUREVt. 

this,  he  was  brother  to  Gallio,  the  proconful  of  Achaitl^ 
before  whofe  tribunal  St.  Paul  was  brought  by  the  Jews 
at  Corinth.f  From  him  he  would  of  courfe  receive  much 
information  refpefling  this  new  religion,  and  the  principal 
characters  concerned  in  it ;  and  from  the  extraordinary- 
things  he  would  hear  of  it  from  fuch  autlientic  fources, 
his  curioflty  would  naturally  be  excited  to  look  a  little 
further  into  it,  and  to  perufe  the  writings  that  contained 
the  hiftory  and  the  do6lrines  of  this  new  fchool  of  philof- 
ophy.  This^  and  this  only,  can  account  for  the  fine  ftrains 
of  moralit^we  fometimes  meet  with  in  Seneca,  Plutarch, 
Marcus  Antoninus,  Epiitetus,  and  the  other  philofophers 
who  wrote  after  the  Chriftian  sera,  and  the  vifible  fuperi- 
ority  of  their  ethics  to  thofe  of  their  predecefTors  before 
that  period.     But  to  return. 

It  has  been  objected  to  this  command  of  loving  our  ens" 
m'lesy  that  it  is  extravagant  and  impradlicable ;  that  it  is 
impoflible  for  any  man  to  bring  himfelf  to  entertain  any 
real  love  for  his  enemies  :  and  that  hirnian  nature  revolts 
and  recoils  againft  io  unreafonable  a  requifition. 

This  objeftion  evidently  goes  upon  the  fuppofition  that 
we  are  to  love  our  enemies  in  the  fame  manner  and  degree, 
and  with  the  fame  cordiality  and  ardour  of  affection,  that 
we  do  our  relations  and  friends.  And  if  this  were  requir* 
ed,  it  might  indeed  be  confidered  as  a  harfh  injundlion. 
But  our  Lord  was  not  fo  fevere  a  taik-mafter  as  to  expeft 
this  at  our  hands.  There  are  different  degrees  of  love  as 
well  as  of  every  other  human  affection  ;  and  thefe  degrees 
are  to  be  duly  proportioned  to  the  different  objeds  of  our 
regard.  There  is  one  degree  due  to  our  relations,  ano- 
ther to  our  benefa<5tors,  another  to  our  friends,  another  to 
ftrangers,  another  to  our  enemies.  There  is  no  need  to 
define  the  precife  fhades  and  limits  of  each,  our  own  feel- 
ings will  fave  us  that  trouble  ;  and  in  that  only  cafe  where 
our  feelings  are  likely  to  lead  us  wrong,  this  precept  of 
our  Lord  will  diredt  us  right. 

And  it  exacEts  nothing  but  what  is  both  reafonable  and 
pra(5licable.       It  explains  what  Is  meant  by  loving  our 
f  Ails  xviii.  5Z„ 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E     VL 


S7 


enemies  in  the  words  that  immediately  follows ;  "  Blefs 
them  that  curfe  you,  do  good  to  them  that  hate  you,  and 
pray  for  them  that  defpitefully  ufe  you,    and  perfecute 
you  :**  that  is,  do  not  retaliate  upon  your  enemy  ;  do  not 
return  his  execrations,  his  injuries,  and  his  perfecutions, 
with  fimilar  treatment;  do  not  turn  upon  him  his  own 
weapons,    but  endeavpr  to  fubdue  him  with  weapons  of 
a  celeflial  temper,  with  kindnefs  and  compaffion.     This 
is  of  all  others  the  moft  efFeci:ual  way  of  vanquifhing  an 
enraged  adverfary.     The   interpretation   here    given    is 
amply  coniirmed  by  St.  Paul  in  his  epiftle  to  thcs^.Romans, 
which  is  an  admirable  comitient  on  this  paflage,     *  Dearly 
•  beloved,  fays  he,  avenge  not  yourfelves,  but  rather  oive 
place  unto  wrath  ;    for  vengeance  is  mine,  I  will  repay, 
faith  the  Lord.     Therefore,  if  tliine  enemy  hunger  feed 
him  ;  if  he  thirll,  gis^e  him  drink.     Be  not  overcome  of 
evil,    but  overcome  evil  with  good*."     This  then  is  the 
love  tliat  we  are  to  fhow  our  enemies  ;  not  that  ardour  of 
afFedlion  which  we  feel  towards  our  friends,  but  that  lower 
kindof /oTf,  whis  is  called  Chriftian  charity  (for  it  is  the 
fame  word  in  the  original)  and  which  we  ought  to  exer- 
cife  toward  every  human  being,  efpecially  in  diflrefs.      If 
even  our  enemy  hunger,  we  are  to  feed  him  ;  if  he  thirft, 
we  are  to  give  him  drink  ;  and  thus  fhall  obtain  the  nobleft 
of  all   triumphs,     "  w^e  lliall  overcome  evil  with  good." 
The  world  if  they  pleafe  may  call  this  meannefs  of  fpirit : 
but  it  is  in  faft  the  trueft  magnanimity  and  elevation  of 
foul.     It  is  far  more  glorious  and  more  difficult  to  fubdue 
our  own  refentments,  and  to  adl  Vv^ith  generofity  and  kind- 
nefs to  our  adverfary,  than  to  make  him  feel  the  feverell 
efFeds  of  our  vengeance.     It  is  this  nobleft  act  of  felf- 
govemment,    this   conqueft  over  our   ftrongeH  paffions, 
which  our  Saviour  here  requires.     It  is  v^hat  conftitutes 
the  highell  perfediion  of  our  nature  :  and  it  is  this  perfec- 
tion which  is  ment  in  the  concluding  verfe  of  this  chap- 
ter ;  Be  ye  therefore  perfect,  as  your  Father  which  is  in 
heaven  is  perfedlf  ;"  that  is,  in  your  condud  towards  your 
enemies  appoach  as  near  as  you  are  able  to  that  perfeclion 
of  mercy  which  your  heavenly  Father  manifells  tov/ards 

*  Rom.  xii.  19--ZI.  t  Matth.  v,  48. 

I 


S8  L  E  C  T  U  R  E     VI. 

its  enemies,  towards  the  evil  and  the  unjuft,  on  whom 
he  maketh  his  fun  to  rife  as  well  a's  on  the  righteous  and  the 
juft.  This  fenfe  of  the  word  pcrfe^  is  eftablifhed  beyond 
controverfy  by  the  parallel  palfages  in  St.  Luke ;  w^here, 
iriftead  of  the  terms  made  ufe  of  by  St.  Matthew,  "  Be 
ye  therefore  psrp£l,  as  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven  is 
perfect,'^  the  evangeiid  exprefsly  fays,  "  Be  ye  tlierefore 
mercifid,  as  your  Father  alfo  is  mercifuL* 

This  tlien  is  the  perfection  whith  you  are  to  exert  your 
iitmoft  efforts  to  attain  ;  and  if  you  fucceed  in  your  at- 
tempt, your  reward  fliall  be  great  indeed  ;  you  fliail,  as 
our  Lord  affures  you,  be  the  children  of  the  Mojl  High,\ 

Having  novr  brought  thefe  Leflures  to  a  conclufion  for 
the  prefent  year,  I  cannot  take  my  leave  of  you  without 
exprefling  tire  great  comfort  and  fa.tisfa(5tion  I  have  derived 
from  the  appearance  of  fuch  numerous  and  attentive  con- 
gregations as  I  have  feen  in  this  place.     That  fatisfaction, 
if  I  can  at  all  judge  of  my  own  fentiments  and  feelings, 
does  not  originate  from  any  felfifh  gratification,  but  from 
the  real  intereft  I  take  in  the  welfare,  the  eternal  welfare 
of  every  one  here  prefent ;  from  the  hope  I  entertain  that 
fome  uieful  impreffions  may  have  been  made  upon  your 
minds  ;  and  from  the  evidence  which  this  general  eameft- 
jiefs  to  hear  the  word  of  God  explained  and  recommeded 
affords,  that  a  deeper  fenfe  of  duty,  a  more  ferious  atten- 
tion to  the  great  concerns  of  eternity,  has,  by  tlie  bleffing 
of  God'  been  awakened  in  your  fouls.      If  this  be  fo,  al- 
low me  moil  eameftly  to  entreat  you  not  to  let  this  ardour 
cool ;  not  to  let  thefe  pious  fentiments  die  away ;  not  to 
let  thefe  good  feeds  be  choaked  by  the  returning  cares  and 
pleafures  of  the  world.     But  go,  retire  into  your  clofets, 
fall  dov/n  upon  your  knees  before  your  Maker,  and  fer- 
vently implore  him.  to  pour  down  upon  you  the  overruling 
influences  of  his  Holy  Spirit ;  to  enlighten  your  under- 
ftandings,  to  fan(5lify  your  hearts,  to  fubdue  your  paffions, 
to  confirm  your  good  refolutions,  and  enable  you  to  refift 
every  enemy  of  your  falvation. 

*  Luke  vi.  36.  f  Matth.  v.  45. 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E    VL  99 

The  world  will  foon  again  difplay  all  its  attraftions  be- 
fore you,  and  endeavor  to  extinguifli  every  good  principle 
you  have  imbibedo  But  if  thq  divine  truths  you  have 
heard  explained  and  enforced  in  tliefe  Lectures  have  taken 
any  firm  root  in  your  minds  ;  if  you  are  ferioufly  convin- 
ced that  Chriil  and  his  religion  came  from  heaven,  and 
that  he  is  able  to  make  good  whatever  he  has  promifed 
and  whatever  he  has  threatened,  there  is  nothing  fiirely  ia 
this  world  that  can  induce  you  to  rifque  you  the  lofs  of  eter- 
nal happinefs,  or  the  iaflicllon  of  never-ceafmg  punifament. 

Leaft  of  all,  .will  you  think  that  this  is  the  precife  mo- 
ment for  fetting  your  affections  on  this  world  and  its  en- 
joyments ;  that  thefe  are  the  times  for  engaging  in  eager 
purfuits  after  the  advantages,  the  honors,  the  pleafures  of 
the  prefent  life  ;  for  plunging  into  vice,  for  diiTolving  in 
gaiety  and  pleafures,  for  fijffering  every  trivial,  every  in- 
lignificant  objef):,  to  banifli  the  remembrance  of  your  Ma- 
ker and  Redeemer  from  your  hearts,  where  they  ought 
to  reign  unrivalled  and  fupreme.  Surely  aniidti  the  dark 
clouds  that  now  hang  over  us,*  thefe  are  not  the  things 
that  will  brighten  up  our  profpedtS;  that  will  lelTen  our 
danger,  that  wdl  calm  our  apprehenfions,  and  fpeak  peace 
and  comfort  to  our  fouls.  No,  it  muft  be  fomething  of  a 
very  different  nature  ;  a  deep  fenfe  of  our  own  unworthi- 
nefs,  a  fincere  contrition  for  our  paft  offences,  a  prollra- 
tion  of  ourfelves  in  all  humility  before  the  throne  of  grace, 
an  earneil  application  for  pardon  and  acceptance  through 
the  merits  of  him  who  died  for  us  (whofe  death  and  fuf- 
ferings  for  our  fakes  the  approaching  week  will  bring  freih 
before  our  view,)  an  ardent  defire  to  manifeil:  our  love  and 
gratitude,  our  devotion  and  attachment  to  our  Maker  and 
our  R-edeemer,  by  giving  them  a  decided  priority  and 
predominance  in  our  affections  and  our  hearts  ;  by  making 
their  will  the  ruling  principle  of  our  conduft  ;  the  attain- 
ment of  their  favor,  the  advancement  of  their  glory,  the 
chief  obje<ft  of  our  wifhes  and  defires.  Thefe  are  the  fen- 
timents  we  ought  to  cultivate  and  cherifh  if  we  wilh  for 
anyfolid  comfort  under  calamity  or  afHidion,  any  conS- 

*  In  March  1798. 


100  L  E  C  T  U  R  E    VI. 

dence  in  the  favor  and  protection  of  Heaven  ;  thefe  alone 
can  fupport  and  fuftain  our  fouls  in  the  midil  of  danger 
and  diftrefs,  at  the  hour  of  death,  and  in  the  day  of  judg- 
ment. 

And  how  then,  are  thefe  holy  fentiments,  thefe  heaven- 
ly afFedions  to  be  excited  in  our  hearts  ?  Moft  certainly 
not  by  giving  up  all  our  time  and  all  our  thoughts  to  the 
endlefs  occupations,  the  never-ceafmg  gaities  and  amufe- 
ments  of  this  difUpated  metropolis ;  but  by  withdravving 
ourfelves  frequently  from  this  tumultuous  fcene,  by  retir- 
ing into  our  chamber,  by  communing  with  our  own  hearts, 
by  fervent  prayer,  by  holding  high  converfe  with  our  Ma- 
ker, and  cultivating  fome  acquaintance  v/ith  that  unfeea 
world  to  wiiich  we  are  all  hallening,  and  which,  in  one 
way  or  other,  muft  be  our  portion  for  ever. 

Many  of  thofe  v/hom  I  now  fee  before  me  have,  from 
their  high  rank  and  fituation  in  life,  full  leifure  and  ample 
opportunities  for  all  thefe  im.portant  purpofes ;  and  let 
them  be  aflured,  that  a  flrift  account  will  one  day  be  de- 
manded of  them  in  what  manner  and  with  what  effedl 
they  have  employed  the  talents,  the  time,  and  the  many 
other  advantages  with  which  their  gracious  Maker  has  in- 
dulged them. 

Aiid  even  thofe  who  are  moft  engaged  in  the  bufy  and 
laborious  fcenes  of  life,  have  at  leaft  one  day  in  the  week 
which  they  may,  and  which  they  ought  to  dedicate  to  the 
great  concerns  of  religion.  Let  then  that  day  be  kept 
facred  to  its  original  deftination  by  all  ranks  of  men,  from 
the  higheft  to  the  loweft.  Let  it  not  be  profaned  by  need- 
lefs  journeys,  by  fplendid  entertainments,  by  crowded  af- 
fembhes,  by  any  thing  in  ftiort  which  precludes  either  our- 
felves, our  famihes,  or  our  domeftics,  from  the  exercife 
of  religious  duties,  or  the  improvement  of  thofe  pious 
fentiments  and  affedtions  w^hich  it  was  meant  to  infpire. 
Let  me  not,  however,  be  mifunderftood.  I  mean  not 
that  it  fliould  be  either  to  the  rich  or  the  poor,  or  to  any 
human  being  whatever,  a  day  of  gloom  and  melancholy, 
a  day  of  fuperllitious  rigor,  and  of  abfolute  exclufion 
from  all  fociety  and  all  innocent  recreation.     I  know  of 


LECTURE    VL  lor 

nothing  in  Scripture  that  requires  this  ;  I  know  of  no 
good  efrecl  that  could  refult  from  it.  On  the  contrary,  it 
is  a  feftival,  a  joyful  feftival ;  a  day  to  which  we  ought 
always  to  look  forward  with  delight,  and  enjoy  Vv'ith  a 
thankful  and  a  grateful  heart.  But  let  it  be  remembered 
at  the  fame  time,  that  it  is  a  day  which  God  claims  as  his 
own  ;  that  he  has  ftamped  upon  it  a  peculiar  mark  of 
fan(5lity  ;  and  that  it  ought  to  be  diftinguifned  from  every 
other  day,  in  the  firft  place,  by  refting  from  our  iifaal  oc- 
cupations, and  giving  reil  to  our  fervants  and  our  cattle  ; 
an  the  next,  by  attendance  on  the  public  Vv^orfhip  of  God  ; 
and  in  the  remaining  intervals,  by  relaxations  and  enjoy- 
"  ments  peculiarly  its  oivn  ;  not  by  quotidian  tumult,  noife, 
and  dilTipation ;  but  by  tlie  calm  and  filent  pleafures  of  re- 
tirement, of  recolle6lion,  of  devout  meditation,  of  fecret 
prayer,  yet  mingled  difcr^etly  with  feledt  foclety,  with 
friendly  converfe,  with  fober  i-ecreation,  and  wilJi  decent 
cheerfulnefs  throughout  the  whole. 

It  was  to  draw  off  our  attention  from  the  common  fol- 
lies and  vanities  of  the  week,  and  to  give  the  foul  a  little 
paufe,  a  little  refpite,  a  little  breathing  from  the  IncefTant 
importunities  of  bufmefs  and  of  pleafure,  that  this  holy 
feftival  was  inftltuted*  And  if  we  cannot  give  up  thefe 
tilings  for  a  Jingle  day,  if  we  cannot  make  this  fmallfacri- 
fice  to  Him  from  whom  we  derive  our  very  exiftence,  it  is 
high  time  for  us  to  look  to  our  hearts,  and  to  confider  ve-- 
ry  ferioufly  v/hether  fuch  a  difpofition  and  temper  of  mind 
as  this  vvill  ever  qualify  us  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

"  Could  ye  not  watch  with  me  one  hour  ?"  Said  our  di- 
vine Mafler  to  his  flumbering  companions*.  Can  ye  not 
give  me  one  day  out  of  feven  >  May  he  now  fay  to  his 
thoughtlefs  difclples.  Let  none  of  us  then  ever  fubjed- 
ourfelves  to  this  bitter  reproach.  Let  us  refolve  from  this 
moment  to  make  the  Chriftlan  fabbath  a  day  of  holy  joy 
and  confolatidn  ;  a  day  of  heavenly  reft 'and  refrefhment ; 
and  above  all,  a  day  for  the  attentive  perufal  of  thofe  fa- 
cred  pages  which  have  been  the  fubjed  of  thefe  Ledlures, 
and  of  your  moft  ferious  attention.     It  is  to  be  hoped,  in- 

*  Mark  xiv.  ^tl' 


lOSr  LECTURE     VI 

deed,  that  we  fnall  not  confine  our  religion  and  our  devo- 
tion to  that  day  only ;  but  even  that  day  properly  employ- 
ed, will  in  fome  degree  fandlify  all  the  reft.  It  will  difen- 
gage  us  (as  it  was  meant  to  do)  gradually  and  gently 
from  that  world,  which  we  muft  foon  (perhaps  fooner 
than  we  imagine)  quit  for  ever ;  it  will  raife  our  thoughts 
above  the  low  and  trivial  purfuits  of  the  prefent  fcene,  and 
£x  them  on  nobler  and  worthier  objcifls ;  it  will  refine  and 
purify,  exalt  arid  fpiritualize  our  aifeftions ;  will  bring  us 
nearer  and  nearer  to  God,  and  to  the  world  of  fpirits  ;  and 
thus  lead  us  on  to  that  celestial  sabbath,  that  ever- 
lasting REST,  for  which  the  Chriftian  fabbath  was  meant 
to  prepare  and  harmonize  our  fouls. 


>•<•■<■•<  ■<■•<-<■■<■<  ■<  •<■<■<■■<■<  ■<..<■•<•.<•.<.■<..<..<>.•>•>..>.■>..>..>..>.  >..>..>.>..>.)...>.>..>«>,  ►.>..>.>..>.. 


LECTURE     VIL 


MATTH.     Chap.  vI.  and  viu 


1  N  thefe  two  chapters  our  Lord  continues  and  con- 
cludes his  admirable  difcourfe  from  the  Mount. 

The  firll  thing  to  be  noticed  here  is  a  ftrong  and  repeat- 
ed caution  to  avoid  all  fhow  and  oftentation  in  the  per- 
formance of  our  religious  duties. 

The  three  inflances  fpecified  are  the  a6ls  of  giving  alms, 
of  praying,  and  of  fafting. 

The  diredion  with  regard  to  the  firft  is,  "  Take  heed 
that  you  do  not  your  alms  before  men,  to  be  feen  of  them, 
othenvife  ye  have  no  reward  of  your  Father  which  is  in 
heaven.  Therefore  when  thou  doeit  thy  alms,  do  not 
found  a  trumpet  before  thee  as  the  hypocrites  do  in  the 
fynagogues  and  in  the  (Ireets,  that  they  may  have  glory 
of  men  ;  verily  I  fay  unto  you,  they  have  their  reward. 
But  when  t/jou  doeft  alms,  let  not  thy  left  hand  know 
what  thy  right  hand  doeth,  that  thine  alms  may  be  in 
fecret ;  and  thy  Father  which  feeth  in  fecret  himfelf  ihall 
reward  thee  openly."* 

In  the  fame  manner  with  regard  to  prayer ;  the  rule 
is,  "  When  thou  prayed  thou  fhalt  not  be  as  the  hypocrites 
are,  for  they  love  to  pray  (landing  in  the  fynagogues 
and  in  the  comers  of  the  ftreets,  that  they  may  be  feen 
of  men  ;  verily  I  fay  unto  you  they  have  their  reward. — 
But  thou,  when  tliou  haft  ftiut  thy  door,  pray  to  thy 
Father  v/hich  is  in  fecret ;  and  thy  Father  which  feeth  ii> 
fecret  fhall  reward  thee  openly."f 

*  Matth.  vl.  1—4  t  Ibid,  s-^^* 


101'  LECTURE     VIL 

Laftly,  a  fimilar  precaution  applies  alfo  to  the  acl  of 
failing  ;  "  When  ye  fa  ft,  be  not  as  the  hypocrites  of  a 
fad  counteriance,  for  they  disHgnre  their  faces  that  they 
may  appear  unto  men  to  faft ;  verily  I  fay  unto  you  they 
have  their  reward.  But  thou,  when  thou  fafteft,  anoint 
thy  head  and  wafh  thy  face,  that  thou  appear  not  unto 
men  to  faft,  but  unto  thy  Father  vvhich  is  in  fecret ;  and 
thy  Father  v/hich  feeth  in  fecret  fhall  reward  thee  openly."* 

In  all  thefe  paiTages  the  point  to  be  noticed  is  a  ftrong; 
and  marked  difapprobation  of  every  thing  that  looks  like 
oftentation,  parade,  vain-glory,  infmcerity,  or  hypocrify,. 
in  the  difcharge  of  our  Chriftian  duties.  They  fhow  in 
the  cleareft  light  the  fpirit  and  temper  of  the  Chriftian 
religion,  which  is  modeft,  filent,  retired,  quiet,  unobtru- 
five,  lliunning  the  obfervation  and  the  applaufe  of  men,, 
and  looking  only  to  the  approbation  of  him  who  feeth  eve- 
ry thought  of  cur  hearts,  and  every  fecret  motive  of  our 
actions. 

They  eftablifu  this  as  the  grand  principle  of  aflion  for 
every  difciple  of  Chrift,  that  in  every  part  of  his  moral 
2.nd  religious  conduct  he  is  to  have  no  other  object  in  view 
but  thefdvour  of  God.  This  is  the  motive  from  which  all 
his  virtues  are  to  flow.  If  he  is  actuated  by  any  other  ;, 
if  he  courts  the  applaufe  of  the  world,  or  is  ambitious  to 
acquire,  by  a  fhow  of  piety,  a  cliaracSter  of  fandity  among 
men,  he  may  perhaps  gain  his  point ;  but  it  is  all  he  wiU 
gain.  He  will  have  his  reward  here ;  he  muft  expect 
none  hereafter. 

Having  made  this  general  obfervation  upon  the  whole,. 
I  fhall  now  proceed  to  remark  on  the  particular  inftances 
adduced,  in  order  to  eftablifli  the  leading  principle. 

And  nrft,  we  are  diredted  to  give  our  alms  {o  privately, 
that  (as  our  Lord  moft  emphatically  and  elegantly  exprefT- 
es  it)  "  our  left  hand  iliall  not  know  what  our  right  hand 
doeth."  This  evidently  Implies  the  utmoft  fecrecy  in  tire 
diftributicn  of  our  charity ;  and  this  is  undoubtedly  the 

'■■  Matth,  vi.  16—18. 


LECTURE    VIL  .  lOS 

mle  we  are  in  general  to  obferve.  But  it  is  by  no  means  to 
be  inferred  from  hence  that  we  are  never,  on  any  occa- 
fion,  to  give  our  alms  in  public.  In  fome  cafes,  publicity 
is  fo  far  from  being  culpable,  that  it  is  neceflary,  ufeful, 
and  laudable.  In  contributing,  for  inftance,  to  any  pub- 
lic charity,  or  to  the  relief  of  fome  great  calamity,  pri- 
vate or  public,  we  cannot  well  conceal  cur  beneficence, 
cr  if  v/e  could  we  ought  not.  Our  example  may  induce 
many  others  to  exert  a  fimilar  generofity  ;  and  befides 
this  there  are  perfons  in  certain  fituations  who  are  expeded 
to  be  charitable,  and  who  fliould  give  proofs  to  tlie  world 
that  they  are  fo.  And  accordingly  in  thefe  and  in  fuch 
like  cafes  we  are  required  to  make  our  "  light  fo  fhine  be- 
fore men,  that  they  may  fee  our  good  works,  and  glorify 
cur  Father  which  is  in  heaven."*  As  far  therefore  as  the 
reafon  of  this  command  goes,  it  is  not  only  allowable, 
but  our  duty,  to  let  our  generous  deeds  he  fomctimes  known 
to  the  world.  But  tlien  we  ought  to  take  efpecial  care  at 
the  fame  time  that  v/e  beftow  a  much  larger  proportion  of 
our  alms  in  fecrecy  and  in  filence  ;  that  we  fuiFer  no  one 
to  witnefs  our  benificence  but  Him  v/ho  mnjl  fee  every 
thing  we  do,  and  that  v/e  have  no  other  obje(5t  whatever  in 
view  but  his  approbation,  and  his  immortal  rewards. 

The  next  inftance  adduced  to  ccnfirni  the  general  prin- 
ciple of  feeking  the  approbation  not  of  men,  but  of  God, 
is  that  of  prayer. 

"  When  thou  prayell,  thoU  fnalt  not  be  as  the  hypo- 
crites ai-e,  for  they  love  to  pray  ftanding  in  the  fynagogues 
and  in  the  corners  of  the  ftrcets,  that  they  may*  be  feen  of 
m.en  ;  verily  I  fay  unto  you,  they  have  their  reward. — 
But  tliou  when  thou  prayeft,  enter  into  thy  clofet,  and 
when  thou  haft  Ihut  the  door,  pray  to  thy  Father  which  is 
In  fecret  and  tliy  Father  vdiich  feeth  in  fccret  fliall  reward, 
thee  openly." 

This  paiTage  has  been  made  ufe  of  by  fome  wTiters  as 
an  argument  againPc  all  public  prayer,  which  they  fay  h 
here  plainly  prohibited.     But  for  this  there  is  not  the 

*  Matth.  V.  1 6, 
I  2 


106  LECTURE    VIL 

fmallefl:  foundation.  It  is  of  private  prayer  only  that  our 
XiOrd  is  here  fpeaking  ;  and  the  hypocrites  whom  he  con- 
dems  were  tliofe  oftentatious  Jews,  who  performed  thofe 
devotions  which  ought  to  have  been  confined  to  the  clofet> 
in  the  fynagogues,  and  even  in  the  public  ftreets,  that  they 
might  be  noticed  and  applauded  for  their  extraordinary 
piety  and  fanflity.  But  this  reproof  could  not  pofiibly 
mean  to  extend  to  piihlic  devotions  in  places  of  worfhip. — 
This  is  evident  from  the  corners  of  Jlreets  being  mentioned  ; 
for  thofe  are  places  in  which  public  devotions  are  never 
performed.  But  befides  this,  we  find  in  Scripture  that 
public  worfhip  is  enjoined  as  a  duty  of  the  higheft  impor- 
tance. It  made  a  confiderable  part  of  the  Jewifh  religion, 
and  the  Mofaic  law  is  filled  with  precepts  and  dire^ions 
concerning  it.  God  declares,  b)-  the  prophet  Ifaiah, 
**  that  his  houfe  fliall  be  called  a  houfe  of  prayer  for  all 
people."*  Our  Saviour  quotes  thefe  very  words  when  he 
caft  out  thofe  that  polluted  the  temple  ;  and  was  himfelf 
a  conftant  frequenter  of  divine  worfnip,  both  in  the  tem- 
ple and  in  the  fynagogues.  He  taught  his  difciples  (as 
we  fhall  foon  fee)  a  form  of  prayer,  which,  though  very 
proper  to  be  ufed  by  any  fmgle  perfon  in  private,  yet  is 
throughout  expreffed  in  the  plural  number,  and  adapted 
to  the  ufe  of  feveral  perfons  praying  at  the  fame  time. — 
■*If  two  of  you,"  fays  he  to  his  difciples  on  another  occa- 
fion,  "  fhall  agree  on  earth  touching  any  thing  that  they 
fhall  afk,  it  fhall  be  done  for  them  of  my  Father  which  is 
in  heaven  ;  for  where  two  or  three  are  gathered  together  in 
my  name,  there  am  I  in  the  midfl  of  them."f  By  St. 
Paul  we  are  commanded  "  not  to  forfake  the  afTembling 
of  ourfelves  together,  as  the  manner  of  forae  is."J  And 
v/e  find,  that  after  our  Saviour's  afcenfion  his  followers 
**  continued  fledfaftly  in  tlie  apoftles  doctrine  and  fellowfhip, 
and  in  prayer,  and  fupplication,  praifmg  God,  and  having 
favor  with  all  the  people."} 

It  is  therefore  inconteflably  clear,  that  our  Saviour  could 
not  pofTibly  mean  to  forbid  that  public  worfhip  which  he 
himfelf  praftifed  and  commanded.     His  intentions  could 

*  Ifalah  Ivi.  7.  f  Matth.  xviii.   19— 20. 

I  Hcb.  X,  a5.  §  A^»  u.  42.  47« 


T.  E  C  T  U  R  E    VIL  lOT 

only  be  to  confine  our  private  prayers  to  privateplaces,  in 
which  we  are  to  keep  up  a  feeret  interccurfe  with  our  Ma- 
ker, Vv-ithdrawn  from  the  eye  of  the  world,  and  unob- 
served by  any  other  than  that  Almighty  Being  to  whom 
our  petitions  are  addrelTed. 

The  laft  inftance  produced  by  our  Saviour  is  that  of 
rafting.  "  When  ye  fail,  be  not  as  the  hypocrites  of  a 
fad  countenance,  for  they  disfigure  their  faces  that  they 
may  appear  unto  men  to  fafi; ;  verily  I  fay  unto  you,  they 
have  their  reward.  But  thou,  when  thou  faileil,  anoint 
thy  head  and  wafh  thy  face,  that  thou  appear  not  unto 
men  to  faft,  but  unto  thy  Father  which  is  in  feeret  ;  and 
thy  Father  which  feeth  in  feeret  fliall  reward  thee  openly." 

There  Is  very  little  necefllty  to  dwell  on  tlils  precept 
here,  for  there  are  fcarce  any  in  thefe  times  and  in  this 
country  who  feem  difpofed  to  m.ake  ^lJ/jcw  of  faftingj  or 
to  be  ambitious  of  acquiring  a  reputation  for  that  kind  of 
religious  difcipline  ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  by  great  num- 
bers entirely  laid  afide,  and  too  frequently  treated  with 
derifion  and  contempt.  Yet  from  this  very  palfage  we 
may  learn  that  it  ought  to  be  confidered  in  a  much  more 
ferious  light ;  for  although  our  Saviour  did  not  command 
his  difciples  to  faft  whilft  he  was  with  them,  yet  he  himfelf 
fafted  for  forty  days.  He  here  plainly  fuppofes  that  his 
difciples  did  fometimes  faft  ;  and  gives  them  diredlions 
how  to  perform  that  duty  in  a  manner  acceptable  to  God. 
And  it  appears  alfo,  that  if  they  did  fo  perform  it,  if 
they  fafted  without  any  oftentation  or  parade,  v/ith  a  de- 
fign  not  to  catch  the  applaufe  of  m.en,  but  to  approve 
themfelves  to  God,  he  afiured  them  they  JlooiiU  ha've  their 
reward. 

Before  we  quit  this  divifion  of  the  chapter,  we  muft 
go  back  a  little  to  that  admirable  form  of  prayer  which 
our  Lord  gave  to  his  difciples,  after  cautioning  them 
againft  all  oftentation  in  their  devotions. 

This  prayer  ftands  unrivalled  in  every  circumftance 
that  conftitutes  the  perfeftion  of  prayer,  and  the  excel- 
lence of  that  fpecies  of  compolition.     It  is  concifs,  it  '^ 


408;  I.  E  C  T  U  R  H    VII.. 

perfpicuous,  it  is  folemn,  it  is  compiehenfive,  it  is  adapt- 
ed to  all  ranks,  conditions,  and  clafles  of  men  ;  it  fixes 
cur  thoughts  on  a  few  great  important  points,  and  im- 
preiTes  on  our  minds  a  deep  fenfe  of  the  goodnefs  and  the 
greatnefs  of  that  Almighty  Being  to  whom  it  is  addrefied* 

It  begins  with  acknowledging  him  to  be  our  moft  gra- 
cious and  merciful  Father  ;  it  begs  that  his  name  may 
every  where  be  reverenced,  that  his  religion  may  fpread 
ever  the  earth,  and  that  his  will  may  be  obeyed  by  men 
witli  the  fame  ardour,  and  alacrity,  and  conflancy  that  it 
is  by  the  angels  in  heaven.  It  next  intreats  the  fupply  of 
all  our  eflential  wants,  both  temporal  and  fpiritual ;  a 
fufficiency  of  thofe  things  that  are  abfolutely  neceffary  for 
our  fubfillence  ;  the  forgivenefs  of  our  tranfgreffions,  on 
condition  that  we  forgive  our  brethren  ;  and,  finally, 
fupport  under  the  temptations  that  aifault  our  virtue,  and 
deliverance  from  the  various  evils  and  calamities  that  every 
where  furround  us  ;  expreffing  at  the  fame  time  the  ut- 
moft  truft  and  confidence  in  the  power  of  God,  to  grant 
whatever  he  fees  it  expedient  and  proper  for  his  creatures 
to  receive. 

The  full  meaning  then  of  this  admirable  prayer,  and 
of  the  feveral  petitions  contained  in  it,  may  perhaps  be 
not  improperly  expreffed  in  the  following  manner. : 

O  thou  great  Parent  of  the  univerfe,  our  Creator,  our 
Preferver  and  continual  Benefactor,  grant  that  vre  and  all 
reafonable  creatures  may  entertain  jull  and  worthy  notions 
of  thy  nature  and  attributes,  may  fear  thy  power,  admire 
thy  wifdom,  adore  thy  goodnefs,  rely  upon  thy  truth ; 
may  reverence  thy  holy  name,  may  blefs  and  prais  thee, 
may  worfliip  and  obey  thee. 

Grant  that  all  the  nations  of  the  earth  m.ay  come  to 
tlie  knowledge  and  belief  of  thy  holy  religion ;  that  it 
may  every  where  produce  the  blefled  fruits  of  piety, 
righteoufnefs,  charity,  and  fobriety ;  that,  by  a  conftant 
endeavour  to  obey  thy  holy  laws,  we  may  approach,  as 
liear  as  the  infirmity  of  our  nature  will  allov/,  to  the 
more  perfeft  obedience  of  the  angels  that  are  in  heaven ; 


LECTURE    VII.  logt 

-snd  thus  qualify  ourfelves  for  entering  into  thy  kingdom 
of  glory  hereafter. 

Feed  us,  we  befeecli  thee,  with  food  convenient  for  us. 
We  alk  not  for  riches  and  honours  ;  give  us  only  what  is 
neceffary  for  our  comfortable  fubfiflence  in  the  feveral 
ftatlons  which  thy  providence  has  allotted  to  us ;  and 
above  all  give  us  contented  minds. 

We  are  all,  O  Lord,  the  beft  of  us  miferable  fniners.^-- 
Be  not  extreme,  ws  befeech  thee,  to  mark  what  we  have 
done  amifs,  but  pity  our  infirmities,  and  pardon  our 
offences.  Yet  let  us  not  dare  to  implore  forgivenefs  from 
thee,  unlefs  we  alfo  from  our  hearts  forgive  our  offending 
brethren. 

We  are  furrounded,  on  every  fide,  witla  temptations 
to  fm  ;  and  fuch  is  the  corruption  and  frailty  of  our  na- 
ture, that  without  thy  powerful  fuccour  we  cannot  al- 
ways (land  upright.  Take  us  then,  O  gracious  God, 
under  thy  almighty  protedion ;  and  amidil  all  the  dangers 
and  difhculties  of  our  ChriHian  warfare,  be  thou  our  re- 
fuge and  fupport.  Suffer  us  not  to  be  tempted  above 
what  v/e  are  able  to  bear,  but  fend  thy  holy  fpirit  to 
ftrengthen  our  own  w^eak  endeavours,  and  enable  us  to 
efcape  or  to  fubdue  all  the  enemies  of  our  falvation. 

Preferve  us  alfo,  if  it  be  thy  bleffed  will,  not  only  from 
fpiritual,  but  from  temporal  evil.  Keep  us  ever  by  thy 
watchful  providence,  both  outward  in  our  bodies,  and  in- 
wardly in  our  fouls  ;  that  thou,  being  in  all  cafes  our  ruler 
and  guide,  we  jpaay  fo  pafs  through  things  temporal  as 
finally  to  lofe  not  the  things  eternal. 

Hear  us,  O  Lord  our  governor,  fl-om  heaven  thy 
dwelling  place ;  and  when  diou  heareft,  have  regard  to 
our  petitions.  They  are  offered  up  to  "diee  in  the  fulleff 
confidence  that  thy  goodnefs  will  difpofe,  and  thy  power 
enable  thee  to  grant  whatever  tliv  wifdom  feeff  to  be  con- 
venient for  us,  and  conducive  to  our  final  happinefs. 

The  next  thing  which  peculiarly  demands  our  attention 
in  this  cliapter  is  the  declaration  contained  in  the  21th 


Zia  LECTURE     VII. 

Terfe,  which  prefents  to  us  another  fundamental  principle 
of  the  Chriftian  religion  ;  namely,  the  neceffity  of  giving 
xhejlrjl  place  in  our  hearts  and  our  affe(5lions  to  God  and 
religion,  and  purfuing  other  things  only  in  fubordination 
to  thofe  great  objeds.  <<  No  man,"  fays  our  Lord,  "  can. 
ierve  two  mafters  ;  for  either  he  will  hate  the  one  and  love 
the  other,  or  elfe  he  will  hold  to  the  one  and  defpife  the 
other.     Ye  cannot  ferve  God  and  mammon*." 

The  word  mammon  is  generally  interpreted  to  mean 
riches  only  ;  but  the  original  rather  direds  us  to  take  it  in 
in  a  more  general  fenfe,  as  comprehending  every  thing 
tliat  is  capable  of  being  an  objedl  of  tpijfi  or  a  ground  of 
confidence  to  men  of  worldly  minds  ;  fuch  as  wealth,  pow- 
er, honor,  fame,  bufmefs,  fenfual  pleafures,  gay  amufe- 
ments,  and  all  the  other  various  purfuits  of  the  prefent 
fcene.  It  is  thefe  that  conftitute  what  we  ufually  exprefs 
by  the  word  world,  when  oppofed  to  religion.  Here  then 
are  the  two  mailers  who  claim  dominon  over  us,  God 
and  the  world  ;  and  one  of  thefe  we  mujl  ferve  ;  both  we 
cannot,  becaufe  their  difpofitions  and  their  commands  are 
in  general  diametrically  oppofite  to  each  other.  The 
world  invites  us  to  indulge  all  our  appetites  without  con- 
trol ;  to  entangle  ourfelves  in  the  cares  and  diftradions 
of  bufmefs ;  to  engage  v/ith  eagernefs  in  endlefs  con- 
tefts  for  fuperiority  in  power,  wealth,  and  honor  ;  or  to 
give  up  ourfelves,  body  and  foul,  to  gaiety,  amufement, 
pleafure,  and  every  kind  of  luxurious  indulgence.  Thefe 
are  the  fervices  v.hich  one  mafter  requires.  But  there  is 
another  mailer,  whofe  injunctions  are  of  a  very  different 
nature.  That  mafter  is  God  ;  and  his  commands  are,  to 
give  him  our  hearts  ;  to  love  him  with  all  our  heart,  and 
fcul,  and  mind,  and  flrength ;  to  be  temperate  in  all 
things  ;  to  make  our  moderation  known  unto  all  men  ;  to 
fix  our  affections  on  things  above  ;  to  have  our  converfa- 
tion  in  heaven ;  to  c aft  all  our  care  upon  him  ;  and  to  take 
up  our  crofs  and  follow  Chrift. 

Judge  now  wliether  it  he  pofTible  to  ferve  thefe  two  maf- 
ters at  one  and  the  fame  time,  and  to  obey  the  commands 

*  Mattli.  vL   24. 


LECTURE    VII.  Ill 

cf  each ;  commands  fo  perfectly  contradi(5tory  to  each 
other. 

Yet  this  is  what  a  great  part  of  mankind  moft  abfurd- 
ly  attempt ;  endeavor  to  divide  themfelves  between  God 
and  mammon,  to  ccmpromife  the  matter  as  well  as  they 
can  between  the  commands  of  one  and  the  fedudlions  of 
the  other  ;  to  vibrate  perpetually  between  vice  and  virtue, 
between  piety  and  pleafure,  betv/een  inclination  and  duty  ; 
to  render  a  vv^Orldly  life  and  a  religious  life  confiftent  witli 
each  other ;  and  to  take  as  much  as  they  can  of  the  en- 
joyments and  advantages  of  the  prefent  world,  without 
ioiing  their  hold  on  the  rev/ards  of  the  next. 

Yet,  in  dire<5t  contradiction  to  fo  extravagant  and  pre- 
pofterous  a  fyftem  as  this,  Chrifl  himfelf  alfures  us  hera 
that  we  cannot  ferve  two  mafters  ;  that  we  cannot  ferve 
God  and  mammon.  Our  Maker  expecfls  to  reign  abfolute 
in  our  hearts  ;  he  will  not  be  ferved  by  halves ;  he  w^iii 
not  accept  of  a  divided  empire  5  he  will  not  fuffer  us  to 
halt  betvveen  two  opinions.  We  muft  take  our  choice, 
and  adhere  to  one  fide  or  the  other.  "  If  the  Lord  be 
God,  follow  him  ;  but  if  Baal,  then  follow  him*." 

But  what  then  are  we  to  do  ?  Are  we  to  live  in  a  ftate 
of  perpetual  warfare  and  hoftility  with  that  very  world  in 
which  the  hand  of  Providence  has  placed  us,  and  which 
is  prepared  in  various  ways  for  our  reception  and  accom- 
modation ?  Are  we  never  to  taft^  of  thofe  various  delights 
which  our  Maker  has  poured  fo  bountifully  around  us  ? 
Are  we  never  to  indulge  thofe  appetites  which  he  him.felf 
has  planted  in  our  breafts  ?  Are  we  fo  entirely  to  confine 
ourfelves  to  the  paths  of  righteoufnefs,  as  never  to  enter 
thofe  that  lead  to  power,  to  honor,  to  wealth,  or  to  fam.e  ? 
Are  we  to  engage  in  no  fecular  occupations,  to  make  no 
provifion  for  ourfelves  and  our  families  ?  Are  we  altogeth- 
er to  withdraw  ourfelves  from  the  cares  and  bufmefs  and 
diftraiSions  of  the  world,  and  give  ourfelves  wholly  up  to 
folitude,  meditation,  and  prayer?  Are  we  never  to  min- 
gle in  the  chearful  amufements  of  fociety  ?  Are  vre  not  to 

*  I  Kings,  sviii.  31. 


iri  LECTURE    VII. 

indulge  ourfeives  in  the  refined  pleafures  of  literary  pur* 
fults,  nor  wander  even  for  a  moment  into  the  delightful 
jegions  of  fcience  or  imagination  ? 

Were  this  a  true  pidure  of  our  duties,  and  of  tlie  fac- 
xifices  which  Chriilianity  requires  from  us  ;  were  thefe  the 
commands  of  our  divine  lawgiver,  well  might  we  fay 
with  the  aftonifhed  difciples,  "  who  then  can  be  faved  ?" 

But  the  God  v/hom  v/e  ferve  is  not  fo  hard  a  mafter, 
nor  does  his  religion  contain  any  fuch  fevere  reftriclions  as 
thefe.  Chriftianity  forbids  no  necelTary  occupations,  no 
reafonable  indulgencies,  no  innocent  relaxations.  It  al-« 
lows  us  to  ufe  tlie  world,  provided  we  do  not  abufe  it. 
It  does  not  fpread  before  us  a  delicious  banquet,  and  then 
come  with  a  "  touch  not,  tafte  not,  handle  not."*  All 
it  requires  is,  that  our  liberty  degenerate  not  into  licen- 
tioufnefs,  our  amufem.ents  into  diffipation,  our  induftry 
into  inceffant  toil,  our  carefulnefs  into  extreme  anxiety  and 
endlefs  folicitude.  -So  far  from  forbidding  us  to  engage  in 
bufmefs,  it  exprefsly  commands  us  not  to  be  flothful  in  it,-|* 
and  to  labor  -with  our  hands  for  the  things  that  be  need- 
ful ;  it  enjoins  every  one  to  abide  in  the  calling  wherein  he 
was  called,'!  and  perform  all  the  duties  of  it.  It  even 
ftigmatizes  thofe  that  provide  nol  for  their  own,  with  tel- 
ling them  that  they  are  worfe  than  infidels.}  When  it  re- 
quires us  "  to  be  temperate  ||  in  all  things,*'  it  plainly 
tells  us  that  we  may  ufe  all  things  temperately  ;  when  it 
diredls  us  "  to  make  our  moderation  known  unto  all 
men,"<j[  this  evidently  implies  that  widiin  the  bounds  of 
moderation  me  may  enjoy  all  the  reafonable  conveniences 
and  comforts  of  the  prefent  life. 

But  how  then  are  v/e  to  reconcile  this  participation  in 
the  concerns  of  the  prefent  life,  with  thofe  very  ftrong 
declarations  of  fcrlpture,  "  that  we  are  not  to  be  conform- 
ed to  this  world  j  that  the  friendfliip  of  the  world  is  en- 
mity with  God  ;  that  v.-e  are  to  take  710  thought  for  the  mor- 
row ;  that  we  are  to  lay  up  treafurcs  no  where  but  in  hea- 

*  Colofs.  ;;.  21.  §  I  Tim.  V.   8. 

f  Rom.  xli.  II.     X  Cor.  iv.  12-  jl   i  Ccr,  ix.  25. 

i  I  Cor.  vii.  2®.  t  i*hilip.  iv.  5. 


t  E  C  T  U  R  E     Vir.  lis 

ven  ;  that  we  are  to  pray  without  ceafing  ;  that  we  are  to 
do  all  things  to  the  glory  of  God  ;  that  we  are  not  only 
to  leave  father,  mother,  brethren,  fillers,  and  for  the  fake 
of  Chrift  and  his  gcfpel,  but  that  if  we  do  not  hafe  all 
thefe  near  and  dear  connexions,  and  even  our  own  lives, 
we  cannot  be  his  difciples*." 

Thefe,  it  mufl  be  acknowledged,  are  very  ftrong  ex- 
preflions,  and  taken  in  their  ftri6l  literal  fenfe,  do  certain- 
ly imply  that  we  are  to  abandon  every  thing  that  is  mod 
dear  and  valuable  and  delightful  to  us  In  this  life,  and  to 
devote  oUrfelves  fo  entirely  to  the  contemplation  and  love 
and  worfhip  of  God,  as  not  to  beftow  a  fmgle  thought  on 
any  thing  elfe,  or  to  give  ourfelves  the  fmallefl  concern 
about  the  aflfairs  of  tliis  fublunary  ftate. 

But  can  any  one  imagine  this  to  be  the  real  doflrine  of 
fcripture  ?  You  may  reft  alTured  that  nothing  fo  unreafona- 
ble  and  extravagant  is  to  be  fairly  deduced  from  thefe  fa- 
cred  writings. 

In  order  then  to  clear  up  this  mofl  important  point, 
three  things  are  to  be  confidered. 

Firft,  that  were  thefe  injunctions  to  be  underftood.  in 
their  literal  fignification,  it  would  be  utterly  impofTible  for 
us  to  continue  a  v/eek  longer  in  the  world.  If,  for  indance, 
we  were  bound  to  pray  without  ceafing,  and  to  take  no 
tJiought  whatever  for  the  morrow,  we  muft  all  of  us 
quickly  perifh  for  want  of  the  common  necelfanes  of  lift*. 

2dly.  It  mud  be  obfei  ved  that  all  oriental  writers,  bot'i 
facred  and  profane,  are  accuftomed  to  exprefs  tliemfelves 
in  bold  ardent  figures  and  metaphors,  which,  before  their 
¥;rue  meaning  can  be  afcertained,  require  very  confidera- 
ble  abatements,  reftriclions,  and  limitations. 

Sdiy.  What  is  moft  of  all  to  the  purpofe,  thefe  abate- 
ments are  almoft  conftantly  pointed  out  by  fcripture  itlelt 
and  whenever  a  very  ftrong  and  forcible  idiom  is  made 

*  Rom.  xil.  1.  Tarn,  iv-  4.  Matth.  vl.  ao.  34,  i  T^fiT.  v,  17. 
l^phes,  vi.  18,     I  Cor.  x,  31.  Luke,  xlv,  36, 

K 


114  L-E  C  r  U  R  E    Vll. 

ufe  of  you  will  generally  find  it  explained  and  modified  oj 
a  different  expi^flion  of  the  fame  fentiment,  which  eithef 
imnic^diately  follows,  or  occurs  in  fome  other  pafTage  of 
Scripture. 

Thus  in  the  prefent  inftance,  T?/hen  Chrift  fays,  "  Ye 
cannot  ferve  God  and  mammon ;  therefore,  take  no 
thought  for  your  life  what  3'e  fhall  eat  and  what  ye 
Ihall  drink,  nOr  yet  for  your  body  what  ye  fhall  put 
on  :"  this  is  molt  clearly  explained  a  few  verfes  after,  in 
thefe  words,  "  Seek  ye  j^ry?  the  kingdom  of  God  and 
his  righteoufnefs,  and  all  thefe  things  fhall  be  added  unto 
you*."  The  meaning  therefore  of  the  precept  is  evident- 
ly this  ;  not  that  we  are  abfolutely  to  take  no  thought  for 
OUT  life,  and  the  means  of  fupporting  it ;  but  that  our 
thoughts  ai:e  not  to  be  wholly  or  pnncipally  occupied  with 
thefe  thin^rrs.  We  are  not  to  indulge  an  immoderate  and 
unceafmg  anxiety  and  folicitude  about  them  :  for  that  in- 
deed is  the  true  meaning  of  tl'!e  original  word  ?nenmnno. 
In  our  Engliili  Bible,  that  word  is  tranflated  f.'ike  no  thovght ; 
but  at  the  time  when  pur-tranOation  was  made,  that  ex- 
preffiOn  fignificd  only  he  not  too  careful.  Our  hearts,  as  it 
is  expreffed  in  another  place,  are  not  to  be  o^oercharged 
with  the  cares  of  this  life*,  fo  a«:  10  ONclnde  all  other  con- 
cerns, even  thofe  of  religion. 

In  the  fame  manner  wirh  rcfpccl  to  pleafures,  v/e  are 
liot  forbid  to  have  any  love  for  them  ;  we  are  only  com- 
manded not  to  be  lovers'  of  pleafure  more  than  lovers  of 
Godf. 

When  therefore  it  is  faid,  ye  cannot  ferve  0^6.  and 
mammon,  the  point  contended  for  in  refpej5l  to  God  is  not 
exclufive  pojfejjioriy  but  cxclufive  domhiton.  Other  things 
may  occafionally  for  a  certain  time,  and  to  a  certain  de- 
gree, have  pofTeffion  of  our  minds,  but  they  muft  not 
rule,  tliey  muft  not  rc\g7i  over  them.  We  cannot  ferve 
two  mailers  ;  we  can  ferve  but  one  faithfully  and  effev5lti- 
ally,  and  that  one  muii  be  C'Jod.  The  concerns  and  com- 
foits  of  this  life  may  h.i\  e  their  due  place  in  our  hearts, 

*  Luke,  xxi.  34--  j   '^  TJm.  ili.  4< 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E     Vlt.  ii^ 

Wt  they  muR  not  cfpire  to  ihtfwjr  ;  this  is  the  prerogative 
of  rehgion  alone  ;  religion  niuPc  be  fupreme  and  para- 
mount over  all.  Every  one,  it  has  l^een  often  laid,  has 
his  ruling  paffion.  The  ruling  pailion  of  the  Chriftlan 
rnuft  be  the  love  of  his  Maker  and  Redeemer.  This  it  is 
v/hich  muft  principally  occupy  his  thoughts,  his  time,  his 
attention,  his  heart.  If  there  be  any  thing  elfe  which 
has  gained  the  afcendency  over  our  fouls,  on  which  cur 
defires,  our  wifhes,  our  hopes,  our  fears,  are  cbl-f,y  fixedy 
God  is  then  difpofiefled  of  his  rightful  dominion  over  us  .; 
we  ferve  another  mafier,  and  we  fhail  think  but  little  of 
our  Maker,  or  any  thing  belonging  to  him. 

His  empire  over  our  hearts  muft,  in  fliort,  at  all  events 
be  maintained,  WHien  this  point  is  once  fecured,  every 
inferior  gratification  that  is  confiftent  v/ith  his  fovereignty, 
his  glory,  and  his  commands,  is  perfedly  allov/able  ;  eve- 
ry thing  tliat  is  hoftile  to  them  muft  at  once  be  renounced. 

This  is  a  plain  rule,  and  a  very  important  one.  It  is  the 
principle  which  our  bleifed  Lord  meant  here  to  eftablifh, 
and  it  muft  be  the  governing  principle  of  our  lives. 

Next  to  this  in  importance  is  another  command,  which 
you  will  find  in  the  12th  vcrfe  of  the  feventh  chapter  ? 
*'  All  things  VN'-hatfoever  ye  would  that  men  mould  do  to 
you,  do  ye  even  fo  to  them  ;  for  this  is  the  lav/  and  the 
prophets."  As  the  former  precepts  v/hich  v/e  have  been, 
confidering  relate  to  God,  this  relates  to  man  ;  it  is  the 
grand  rule  by  which  we  muft  in  all  cafes  regulate  our  con- 
dud  towards  our  neighbor ;  and  it  is  a  rule  plain,  fimpie^ 
concife  intelligible,  comprehenfive,  and  every  way  wer- 
ithy  of  its  divine  author.  V/lienever  we  are  d:?liberating 
hov7  we  ought  to  act  towards  our  neighbor  in  any  particu- 
lar inftance,  v/e  muft  for  a  moment  change  fituations  with 
him  in  our  own  minds,  we  muft  place  him  in  our  circum- 
llances  and  ourfelves  in  his,  and  then  whatever  vre  fnouicl 
wifh  him  to  do  to  us,  that  we  are  to  do  to  him.  This  is 
a  procefs,  in  which,  if  we  a^t  fairly  and  impartially,  we 
can  never  be  miilaken.  Our  own  feelings  ^.vill  determine 
cur  condudl  at  once  better  than  all  ':l;e  cafuifts  in  die  world. 


UG.  L  E  C  T  U  R  E     VII. 

But  before  we  entirely  quit  the  confi deration  or  this 
precept,  we  rraift  take  fome  notice  of  the  oblervation  fub- 
joined  to  it,  which  will  require  a  little  explanation. 

"  Whatfoever  ye  would  that  men  fhould  do  to  you,  do 
ye  even  fo  to  them  ;  for  this  is  the  law  and  the  prophets.'' 

The  concludinr^-  claufe,  this  is  iht  laiv  and  the  prophets, 
has  by  fome  been  interpreted  to  mean,  this  is  the  fum  and 
iubllance  of  all  religion  ;  as  if  religion  confiRed  folely  in 
behaving  juiliy  and  kindly  to  our  fellow  creatures,  and 
beyond  this  no  other  duty  was  required  at  our  hands. — 
But  this  conclufion  is  as  groundlefs  as  it  is  dangerous  and 
tuifcriptural. 

There  are  duties  furely  of  another  order,  equally  ne- 
ceilary  at  leall,  and  etiually  important  with  thofe  we  ow(^ 
to  our  neighbor. 

/■ 

There  are  duties,  in  the  firll:  pbxe,  owing  to  our  Grea- 
lor,  whom  we  are  bound  to  honor,  to  venerate,  to  w'or- 
jhip,  to  obey,  and  to  love  with  ail  our  hearts  and  fouls, 
and  mind;  and  fttengih.  There  are  duties  ov«ang  to  our 
Redeemer,  of  alfeaion,  attiicliment,  gratitude,  faiih  iu  his 
divine  miiTion,  and  rL-liance  on  the  atonement  he  made 
for  us  on  the  crofs.  I'here  are  lailly>  a<Sts  of  difcipline 
and  felf 'government  to  be  e.vxrcifed  over  our  corrupt  pro- 
penfities  and  irregular  delirde.  Accordingly,  in  the  very 
chapter  we  have  jull  been  coahdering,  we  are  command- 
*tsX  to  feek  firft  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteoufnefs. 
We  are  in  another  place  informed,  that  the  love  of  God 
\<,  the  Ihft  and  great  commandment,  and  the  love  of  our 
v.ighbor  only  the  iecond  ;  and  we  are  taught  by  St.  James 
that  one  main  branch  of  religion  is  to  keep  ourlelves  un- 
Ipotted  from  the  world*.  Ic  is  impoffible,  therefore,  that 
our  bleifed  Lord  could  here  mean  to  lay,  that  our  duty 
to\sArds  our  neighbor  was  the  whole  of  his  religion  ;  he 
fays  nothing  in  fad  oi  JAs  religion  ;  he  fpeaks  only  of  the 
Jewilli  religion,  the  law  and  tha  prcphds  ;  and  of  thefe  he 
only  fays  tliat  one  of  the  great  obje(^s  they  have  in  view  is 


L  E  C  T  U  R  K     VII.  lir 

to  inculcate   that  fame   equitable  condii6l  towards  our 
brethren,  which  he  here  recommcndedf . 

Let  no  one  then  indulge  the  vain  imagination  that  a  juft, 
and  generous,  and  compaflTionate  conducl  towards  his  fel- 
low creatures  conftitutes  the  luhole  of  his  duty,  and  will 
compenfate  for  the  want  of  every  other  Clirillian  virtue. 

This  is  a  mod  fatal  delufion  ;  and  yet  in  the  prefent 
thnes  a  very  common  one.  Benevolence  is  the  favorite, 
the  "fafhionabie  virtue  of  the  age  ;  it  is  univerfaliy  cried 
up  by  infidels  and  libertines  as  tlie  firft  and  only  duty  of 
27ian  ;  and  even  many  who  pretend  to  the  name  of  Chrif- 
tians,  are  too  apt  to  reft  upon  it  as  the  mod  eifential  part 
of  their  religion,  and  the  chief  bafis  of  their  title  to  the 
revs^ards  of  the  gol'pel.  But  that  gofpel,  as  we  have  juft 
feen,  prefcribes  to  us  feveral  otlicr  duties,  wJiich  require 
from  us  the  fame  attention  as  thofc  vre  ewe  to  our  neigh- 
bor J  and  if  we  fail  in  any  of  them,  ^^  e  can  liave  no  hope 
of  fliaring  in  the  benefits  procured  for  us  by  tlie  facrifice 
of  our  Redeemer.  What  then  God  and  nature,  as  \v^\\ 
as  ChrilT:  and  his  apollles,  have  joined  together,  let  no 
man  dare  to  put  afunder.  Let  no  one  flatter  lumfelf  with 
obtaining  the  rewards,  or  even  efc^ing  tlie  puniOiment'^ 
of  the  Gofpel,  by  performing  only  one  branch  of  his  du- 
ty ;  nor  let  him  ever  fuppofe  that  under  the  Ihclter  ot 
benevolence  he  can  either  on  one  hand  evade  the  firft  and 
great  command,  the  love  of  his  Maker  ;  or  on  tJie  other 
hand  that  he  can  fecurely  indulge  his  favorite  pafTions, 
can  compound  as  it  were  with  God  for  his  fenfuality  by 
acts  of  generofity,  and  purchafe  hy  his  v/ealth  a  general 
licence  to  frn.  This  may  be  very  good  pagan  morality, 
may  be  very  good  moder  philofophy,  but  it  is  not  Chrif- 
tian  godhuefs. 

As  It  is  my  purpofe  to  touch  only  on  the  moft  importani. 
and  moft  generally  ufefjl  parts  of  our  Saviour's  difcourfe, 
I  faall  pafs  over  what  remains  of  it,  and  haften  to  the 
conclufion,  which  is  expreffed  by  the  facred  hlftorian  in 
thefe  words  ;  "  And  it  came  to  pafs,  that  when  Jefus  had 

I  S:c-h^o^  :n-"    <c.     V.,m.  xui-  «.     G-l  v-   :^  ;;:::]  Grotius  cu 


^ici  LECTURE    VIL 

Hnillied  thefe  fayings,  the  people  were  aftonifhed  at  his 
doftrine  ;  for  he  taught  them  as  one  having  authority,  and 
not  as  the  fcribes*."  Both  his  matter  and  his  manner 
v/ere  infinitely  beyond  any  thing  they  had  ever  heard  be* 
fore.  He  did  not,  like  trie  heathen  philofophers,  enter- 
tain his  hearers  with  dry  metaphyfical  difcourfes  on  the  na- 
ture of  the  fupreme  good,  and  the  feveral  divifions  and 
fubdivifions  of  virtue  ;  nor  did  he,  like  the  Jewifh  rabbles, 
content  himfelf  with  dealing  out  ceremonies  and  tradi^ 
lions,  with  difcourfmg  on  mint  and  cummin,  and  eftimat- 
ing  the  breadth  of  a  ph}lacl:ery  ;  but  he  drew  off  their 
attention  from  thefe  trivial  and  contemptible  things  to  the 
greateil:  and  the  nobleft  objecfls  ;  the  exiftence  of  one  fu- 
preme Almighty  Being,  the  Creator,  Preferver,  and  Gov- 
ernor of  the  univerfe:  the  firS:  formation  of  man;  his 
fall  from  original  innocence  j  the  confequent  corruption 
and  depravity  of  Lis  nature  ;  the  remedy  provided  for 
him  by  the  goodneis  of  our  Maker  and  the  death  of  our 
Redeemer  ;  the  nature  of  that  divine  religion  Vv'hich  he 
himfelf  came  to  reveal  to  mankind  ;  the  purity  of  heart 
and  fancflity  of  life  which  he  required  ;  the  communica- 
tions of  God's  holy  fpirit  to  affiH  our  own  feeble  endeav- 
ours here,  and  a  crown  of  immortal  glory  to  recompenfe 
us  hereafter. 

The  morality  he  taught  was  the  pureil,  the  foundeft, 
the  fublimeft,  the  nioft  perfe6t  that  had  ever  before  enter- 
ed into  the*  imagination,  or  proceeded  from  the  lips  of 
man.  And  this  he  delivered  in  a  m^anner  the  moil  ftriking 
and  impreffive  ;  in  ihort,  fententious,  folemn,  important, 
ponderous  rules  and  maxims,  or  in  familiar,  natural,  af- 
fecting fimilitudes  and  parables.  He  fhewed  alfo  a  mod 
confummate  knov/ledge  of  the  human  heart,  and  dragged 
to  light  all  its  artifices,  fubtleties,  and  evafions.  He  dif- 
covered  every  thought  as  it  arofe  in  the  mind  ;  he  detedled 
every  irregular  defire  before  it  ripened  into  a61ion.  He 
manifefted  at  the  fame  time  the  moft  perfect  impartiality. 
He  had  no  refpecl  of  perfons.  He  reproved  vice  in  every 
ftation  wherever  he  found  it,  with  the  fame  freedom  and 
boldnefs  ;  and  he  added  to  the  whole  the  v;ciglit,  the  irre- 
*  M;uh.  vli    2^,  29. 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E    VIL  119 

finable  v?-elglit  of  his  own  example.  He  and  he  only  of 
all  the  fons  of  men,  acted  up  in  every  the  minuteft  in- 
flance  to  v/hat  he  taught  ;  and  his  life  exhibited  a  perfect 
portrait  of  his  religion.  But  what  completed  the  whole 
was,  that  he  taught,  as  the  evangelift  exprefTes  it,  iviih 
authority,  with  the  authority  of  a  divine  teacher.  The 
ancient  philofophers  could  do  nothing  more  than  give  good 
advice  to  their -followers  ;  they  had  no  means  of  enforc- 
ing tliat  advice  ;  but  our  great  Lawgiver's  precepts  are 
all  DIVINE  COMMANDS.  He  fpoke  in  the  name  of  God  : 
he  called  himfelf  the  Son  of  God.  He  fpoke  in  a  tone  of 
fuperiority  and  authority,  which  no  one  before  had  the 
courage  or  the  right  to  alTume  :  and  finally,  he  enforced 
every  thing  he  taught  by  the  moll  folemn  and  awful  fanc- 
tions,  by  a  promife  of  eternal  felicity  to  thole  who  obey- 
ed him,  and  a  denunciation  of  the  moft  tremendous  pun- 
iihment  to  thofe  vrho  rejecled  him. 

Thefe  were  the  circumftances  which  gave  our  blelTed 
Lord  the  authority  with  which  he  fpake.  No  wonder 
then  that  the  people  "  were  aftoniilied  at  hie  dodrines  ; 
and  that  they  all  declared  he  fpake  as  never  man  fpake*  " 

*  John  vii.  46. 


LECTURE     VIIL 


MATTH.  vin. 


_^  HE  eighth  chapter  of  St.  Matthew,  a  part  of 
ivhich  will  be  the  fubjea:  of  this  Leiflure,  begins  with  the 
miraculous  cure  of  the  leper,  which  is  related  in  the  fol- 
lowing manner : 

When  our  Lord  was  come  down  from  the  mountain, 
great  multitudes  followed  him,  and  behold  there  came  a 
leper  and  worfhipped  him,  faying,  Lord,  if  thou  wilt 
thou  canft  make  me  clean.  And  Jefus  put  forth  his  hand 
and  touched  him,  faying,  I  ivill ;  be  thou  clean  ;  and 
immediately  his  leprofy  was  cleanfed.  And  Jefus  faith 
unto  him,  fee  thou  tell  no  man  ;  but  go  thy  way,  ftiew 
thyfelf  to  the  prieft,  and  offer  the  gift  that  Mofcs  com- 
manded, for  a  teflimony  unto  them." 

The  leprofy  is  a  diforder  of  the  moft  malignant  and 
difgufting  nature.  It  was  once  common  in  Europe. 
Thofe  infefled  with  it  were  called  Lazarf^,  who  were  fepa- 
rated  from  all  human  fociety  (the  difeafc  being  highly 
contagious)  an'd  were  confined  in  hofpitals  called  I  azar- 
ettos,  of  which  it  is  faid  there  were  no  Icfs  than  nine  thou- 
fand  at  one  time  in  Europe.  For  the  lail  two  hundred 
years  this  diftemper  has  almoft  entirely  vanifhed  from  this 
and  other  countries  of  Europe,  and  an  inftance  of  it  now 
is  but  feldom  to  be  met  with.  In  the  Eail  it  ftill  exifts  to 
a  certain  degree  ;  and  there  in  former  ages  it  had  its  fource 
and  origin,  and  raged  for  a  great  length  of  time  with  ex- 
traordinary violence. 

In  the  law  of  Mofes,  there  are  very  particular  direaions 
given  concerning  the  treatment  of  lepers,  and  a  ceremo- 
nial appointed  for  the  examination  of  them  by  the  prief. 
K    2 


122.  LECTURE    VIIL 

v*hen  they  were  fuppofed  to  be  cured.  But  no  natural 
remedy  is  prefcfibed  by  Mofes  for  the  cure  of  it.  It  wa-: 
eonfjdered  by  the  Jews  as  a  difrafe  fent  by  God,  and  to  be 
eured  only  by  his  interpofition.  There  could  not,  there- 
fora,  b'*  a  ftrongsr  proof  of  our  Saviour's  divine  power, 
than  his  curing  this  moft  loathfome  difeafe,  of  which  ma- 
ny inftancts  befides  this  occur  in  the  Gofpels.  The  man- 
ner too  in  which  he  performed  this  cure  was  equally  an  ev- 
idence that  all  thg  fulnefs  of  the  Godhead  dv/elt  in  him* ; 
h  wai  inftantanaous,  with  a  touch,  and  a  few  words,  and 
fchofe  words  the  moft  fublime  and  dignified  that  can  be 
imafineds  Iwill;  be  thou  clean:  and  immediately 
th©  leprofy  departed  ft  cm  him.  This  was  plainly  the  lan- 
giiagt  as  well  as  the  a£t  of  a  God,     I  v/ill  ;  be  thou 

1?it  with  all  this  fupematural  pov/er  there  was  no  ollen- 
tation  or  parade,  no  arrogant  contempt  of  ancient  cere- 
moni©i  and  inftitutions  (which  an  enthufiafl  always  tram- 
pits  under  foot ;)  but  on  the  contrary  a  perfed  fubmiffion 
to  the  eftablilhed  laws  and  ufages  of  his  country.  He 
ikid  to  thg  man  who  was  healed,  '*  See  thou  tell  no  man  ; 
but  go  thy  wayj  fhtw  th^^felf  to  the  prieft,  and  offer  the 

f\h  that  Mofes  commanded,  for  a  teftimony  unto  them." 
[eie  he  gave  at  once  a  ftriking  example  both  of  humility 
and  obedience.  He  enjoined  the  luan  to  keep  fccret  the 
aOionifhing  miracle  he  had  wrought,  and  he  commanded 
him  to  comply  with  the  injunOions  of  Mofes ;  to  fhew 
himfelf  to  the  prieft,  to  undergo  the  examination,  and  to 
offer  the  facrifice  prefcribed  by  the  lawf ;  which  at  the 
fame  time  that  it  fliewed  his  difpofition  to  fulfil  all  right- 
eoufnefs,  eftabliihed  the  truth  cf  the  miracle  beyond  all 
controverfy,  by  making  the  pr'ed  himfelf  the  judge  of 
the  reality  of  the  cure.  This  w^s  not  the  mode  which  aa 
impoflor  would  haYe  chofen* 

After  this  miracle,  the  next  incident  that  occurs  is  the 
remarkable  and  interefting  ftory  of  the  centurion,  whofe 
fervant  was  cured  of  the  palfy  by  ouj  Saviour.  The  re- 
lation of  this  niitacie  is  as  follows ;  "  When  Jefus  v:i\% 

*  Collok  ii.  5.  t  Lev.  :uv. 


LECTURE     Vin.  ^a% 

Entered  into  Capernaum,  tliere  came  unto  him  a  ceiltUri- 
on,  befeeching  him  and  faying,  Lord,  my  fervant  lieth 
at  home  fick  of  the  palfy,  grievoufly  tormented*.  And 
Jefus  faith  unto  him,  I  will  come  and  heal  him.  The 
centurion  anfvrered  and  faid,  Lord,  I  am  not  vvorthy  that 
thou  fhculdeft  come  under  my  roof,  but  fpeak  the  word 
only,  and  my  fervant  Ihall  be  healed.  For  I  am  a  malt 
under  authority,  having  foldiers  under  me  ;  and  I  fay  urt- 
to  this  man  go,  and  he  goeth  ;  and  to  another  eom^,  and 
he  cometh  ;  and  to  a  third  do  this,  and  he  doeth  it* 
When  Jefus  heard  it,  he  marvelled,  and  faid  to  them  that 
followed  him,  Verily  I  fay  unto  you,  I  have  not  found  i^O 
great  faith,  no,  not  in  Ifrael.  And  Jefus  faid  unto  the 
centurion,  go  thy  way  ;  and  as  thou  haft  believed,  fd  bd 
it  done  unto  thee  :  and  his  fervant  was  healed  in  tht  felf-- 
fame  hour." 

This  is  the  fiiort  and  edifying  hiftory  of  the  Romaft 
centurion  ;  and  tlie  reafon  of  its  being  recorded  by  the  fa  • 
cred  writers  was,  in  the  firft  place,  to  give  a  moft  ftriking' 
evidence  of  our  Saviour's  divine  power,  which  enabltd 
him  to  reilore  tiie  centurion's  fervant  to  health  tit  &  tiyiuMt^i^ 
and  without  fo  much  as  feeing  him  ;  and  in  the  HfeXt  plac^. 
to  fet  before  us,  in  the  character  of  the  centurion,  an  iU 
luftrious  example  of  thofe  eminent  Chriftian  virtues^  hti* 
manity  and  charity,  piety  and  eenerofitv,  humility  aftd 
faith. 

Gf  the  former  cf  thefe  virtues,  humarrity  and  GharU^') 

*In  the  parrallel  palfage  of  St.  Luke,  chap.  vii.  it  is  (aid  that  the 
centurion  fcnt  nicffengers  to  jefus ;  but  no  mention  is  made  of  hU  com* 
ing  to  him  in  perfon.  This  difficulty  may  be  cleared  up  by  cbfervjfigi 
that  in  fcripture  Vvhat  any  perfon  does  by  his  meficngers  he  is  frequent* 
ly  reprefented  as  doiiio:  by  himl'elf.  Thus  Chrifl,  who  preached  to  tha 
Ephcftar.s  by  his  apodies,  is  fa;d  to  h?.ve  preached  to  them  himfelf, 
Eph.  ii.  17.  '  But  it  feems  to  me  not  at  ajl  improbable,  that  the  den* 
turion  may  both  have  fent  meficngers  to  Jefus,  arid  aftcrwai-ds  gotic  be 
him  in  perfon.  "  Not  thinking  hinifelf  worthy,"  (as  he  himfeif  eJc* 
prefTes  it)  to  go  to  Chriil:  in  tlic  firft  inflance,  he  fcnt  probably  the  eU 
ders  of  the  Jews,  and  then  fome  cf  his  friends,  to  implore  Cur  Lord 
to.  heal  his  f.;rvant,  not  meaning  to  give  him  ihe  trouble  of  .conning  td 
his  houfe.  But  when  he  found  that  Jef-s  was  avStualiy  on  his  way  ttJ 
him,  what  was  more  natural  for  him  than  to  haften  out  of  his  houfe  ls>. 
satct  him,  and  to  make  his  acknovv'icKigir.er.ts  to  him  in  perfon  ^ 


^^  LECTURE     VIII. 

he  gave  a  very  convincing  proof  in  the  folicitude  he  fhe^v  - 
ed  for  the  welfare  of  his  fervant,  and  the  ftrong  intereit  he 
took  in  the  recovery  of  his  health.  And  this  is  the  more 
remarkable  and  the  more  honorable  to  the  centurion,  be- 
caufe  in  general  the  treatment  which  the  fervants  of  the 
Remans  experienced  from  their  mafters  was  very  different 
indeed,  from  what  we  fee  in  the  prefent  inflance.  I'hefe 
fervants  were  almoft  all  of  them  flaves,  and  were  too  com- 
monly treated  with  extreme  rigor  and  cruelty.  They  were 
often  ftrained  to  labor  beyond  their  ftrength,  were  confin- 
ed toloathfome  dungeons,  were  loaded  with  chains,  were 
fcourged  and  tortured  without  reafon,  were  deferted  in 
ficknefs  and  old  age,  and  put  to  death  for  trivial  faults 
and  flight  fufpicions,  and  fom.etimes  out  of  mere  wanton- 
nefs  and  cruelty,  without  any  reafon  at  all.  Such  barbar- 
ity as  this,  which  was  at  that  time  by  no  means  uncom- 
mon, which  indeed  has  in  a  greater  or  lefs  degree  univer- 
fally  prevailed  in  every  country  where  flavery  has  been  ef- 
tablifhed,  and  which  fhows  in  the  ftrongeft  light  the  dan- 
ger of  trufting  abfolute  power  of"  any  kind,  political  or 
perfonal,  in  the  hands  of  fuch  a  creature  as  man  ;  this 
barbarity,  I  fay,  forms  a  moft  ftriking  contrail  to  the 
kindnefs  and  companion  of  the  centurion,  who,  though 
he  had  fo  much  power  over  his  flaves,  and  fo  many  inftar- 
ces  of  its  fevereft  exertion  before  his  eyes,  yet  made  ufe 
of  it*as  we  here  fee,  not  for  their  oporeffion  and  deftruc- 
tion,  but  tlieir  happinefs,  comfort,  and  prefervation. 

The  next  virtues  which  attract  our  notice  in  the  cenli;- 
rion's  chara^er  are  his  piety  and  generofity.  Thefe  were 
eminently  difplayed  in  the  aifedion  he  manifefted  towards 
the  Jewifh  people,  and  his  building  them  a  place  of  wor- 
fhip  at  his  own  expence  ;  for  the  elders  of  the  Jews  in- 
formed Jefus,  "  that  he  loved  their  nation,  and  had  buik 
them  a  fynagogue*." 

The  Jews,  it  is  well  known,  were  at  this  time  under 
the  dominion  of  the  Romans.  Their  country  was  a  Ro- 
man province,  where  this  centurion  had  a  military  com- 
nuand  ;  and  they  who  iwc  acquainted  v.ith  tlie  Roman  1  li- 

*  Luke  vii,  5. 


LECTURE    Vni.  225 

lory  know  well  with  what  cruelty,  rapacity,  and  oppref- 
ion,  the  governors  and  commanding  officers  in  the  con- 
quered provinces  too  commonly  behaved  towards  the 
,:.eople  whom  they  were  lent  to  keep  in  awe.  So  far  were 
ihey  from  building  them  temples  or  fynagogues,  that  tliey 
frequently  invaded  even  thofe  fkcred  retreats,  and  laid 
their  facrilegious  hands  on  every  thing  tliat  wa.s  valuable 
in  them.  Of  this  we  have  abundant  proofs  in  the  hillory 
oi.  Verres,  when  governor  of  Sicily  ;  and  Verres  w^as  in 
many  refpe^^s  a  faithful  reprcfentative  of  too  large  a  part 
of  the  Roman  governors.  In  the  midil  of  this  brutality 
and  infolence  of  power  does  this  gallant  foldier  ftand  up 
CO  patronize  and  aiTill  a  diftrelTed  and  an  injured  people  ; 
and  it  is  a  teftimony  as  glorious  to  his  memory  as  it  is  fm- 
gular  and  almoft  unexampled  In  his  circumftances,  that  he 
lovecl  the  jeivtjh  nat'tGru  and  that  he  gave  a  very  decifive 
d:ad  magnificent  proof  of  it,  by  building  them  a  fyna- 
gogue  ;  for  there  cannot  be  a  ftronger  indication  both  of 
iove  to  mankind  and  love  towards  God,  than  ere^ing 
places  of  worfhip  where  they  are  wanted*.  Without 
buildings  to  afTemble  in,  there  can  be  no  public  worihip. 
Without  public  worflnp  there  can  be  no  religion  ;  and 
what  kind  of  creatures  men  become  without  religion  ;  in- 
to v/hat  excefTes  of  barbarity,  ferocity,  impiety,  and  ev- 
-fry  fpecies  of  profligacy  they  quickly  plunge,  we  have 
too  plainly  feen  ;  God  grant  that  we  may  never  feel, 

*  There  is  a  moft  dreadful  Trant  of  this  nature  in  the  wefcern  pure 
of  this  great  metropolis.  From  St,  MartinVin-the-Fields  to  Mary- 
bone  church  inclufive,  a  fpace  containing  perhaps  2CO,ooo  fouls,  there 
are  oniy  five  parifii  churches,  St.  Martin's,  St.  Anne's  Soho,  St.^ 
james's,  St.  George's  Hanover  Square,  and  the  very  fmali  church  c£ 
Marybonc.  There  are,  it  is  truer,  a  few  chapels  inteffperfed  in  this 
ipace  ;  but  v/hat  they  can  contain  is  a  mere  trifle,  compared  to  the 
-whole  nucib-^r  of  inhabitants  in  thofe  parts,  and  the  lowed  claffes  arc 
akacft  entirely  excluded  from  them.  The  only  meafurc  that  can  be 
of  any  eflential  fervice,  is  the  eredion  of  feveral  fpaclous  parlfli  church- 
es- capable  of  receiving  very  larjije  congregations,  and  affording  de- 
cent accommodations  for  the  lower  and  inferior,  as  well  as  the  hi^^hcr 
ordei-5  of  the  people.  In  the  reign  of  Queen  Anne,  a  coniiderabic 
funi  of  money  was  voted  by  Parliament  for  fifty  new  churches.  It  is 
moft  devoutly  to  be  wifhed  that  the.prefent  Parliament  would,  to  a 
certain  extent  at  ieaft,  follow  fo  honorable  an  example.  It  is,  I  am 
furc,  in  every  point  of  view,  political,  moral,  and  religious,  well 
Woruhy  the  atteation  of  the  Bririlh  legillaturc,    A  fuflicient  number 


t2^  LECTURE    vin; 

Tht  next  remarkable  feature  in  the  charader  of  xlit 
CfiUurion  is  his  humility.  How  completely  this  mod 
amlablf  ©f  human  virtues  had  taken  pofleflion  of  his  foul, 
iis  evldiftt  from  the  manner  in  which  he  folicited  our  Sav- 
iour for  thg  cure  of  his  fervant  :  how  cautious,  how  mod- 
#ft,  hew  diffident,  how  timid,  how  fearful  of  offending, 
ev§n  whlld  he  was  only  begging  an  ad  of  kindnefs  for 
another  I  Twice  did  he  fend  melfengers  to  our  Lord,  as 
thinking  himfelf  unworthy  to  addrefs  him  in  his  own  per- 
fon  I  and  when  at  cur  Saviour's  approach  to  his  houfe  he 
hlmffilf  ea^ne  out  to  m.eet  him,  it  v/as  only  to  entreat  him 
not  to  trouble  himfelf  any  further ;  for  that  he  was  not 
Lvorthy  thit  Jefos  fhould  enter  under  his  roof. 

This  lewlinefs  of  mind  in  the  centurion  is  the  more  re- 
markabki  becaufe  humility ^  in  the  gofpel  fenfe  of  the 
werdf  i§  a  virtue  with  which  the  ancients,  and  more  par- 
lleuUrly  the  Romans,  were  totally  unacquainted.  They 
had  nol  ©veri  a  word  in  their  language  to  defcribe  it  by. 
The  only  \¥ord  that  feems  to  exprefs  it,  humilltas^  figni- 
fiiS  bsftneis,  fervility,  and  meannefs  of  fpirit,  a  thing 
Vtry  dl^frfnt  from  true  Chriftian  humility  ;  and  indeed 
this  wa§  th§  only  idea  they  entertained  of  that  virtue. — 
Ev§ry  thing  that  we  call  meek  and  humble,  they  confid- 
€r8d  %%  m§an  and  contemptible.  A  haughty  imperious 
OVirbgaring  temper,  a  high  opinion  of  their  ov;n  virtue 
afld  wifdofflj  a  contempt  of  all  other  nations  but  tlieir 
evrnj  a  quiek  i^'^S^  and  a  keen  refentment,  not  only  of 
Injuns^f  but  even  of  the  fiighteft  affronts,  this  v/as  the 
lkv<5fit€  and  predominant  charader  among  the  Romans ; 
and  tllii-6  ggrtitknefs  of  difpofition,  that  low  eftimation  of 
mif  own  merits,  that  ready  preference  of  others  to  our- 
M'fMt  that  fearfulnefs  of  giving  offence,  that  abafement 
of  ©urfelve^  in  the  fight  of  God  which  zue  call  hinnirity, 
they  cpniidered  as  the  mark  of  a  tame,  abject,  and  un- 
manly mind.  When,  therefore,  we  fee  this  virtuous  cen- 
tUi'iQn  diifering  fo  widely  from  his  countrymen  in  this  rcf- 

<Ji  new  pii'ilh  diurchrs,  creAed  both  In  the  capital  and  in  other  p-rts 
C»f  th«  k*f»g'i«!^i  wlitie  they  are  wanted,  for  the  ufe  of  the  members  of 
tljg  church  i»<[^  fitigiaoJ  of  all  conditions,  would  very  en'entially  con- 
4ttC€  t4>  th§  mitrefla  cf  religion,  and  the  fccurity  and  welfare  of  the 
€itftWifl)e4  Clinch. 


LECTURE   viii;  mi 

^ea,  we  may  certainly  coneludi  that  hii  notions  of  fflo- 
rality  were  of  a  much  higher  ftittdard  than  thtirsj  and 
that  his  difpofition  peculiarly  ^tt§.d  him  for  th«^  rfciption 
-of  the  Gofpel.  For  humility  is  that  virtu©,  which,  moii 
than  any  other,  difpofes  the  mind  to  yield  to  thi  ividgnci§, 
and  embrace  the  dodrines  of  thg  Chriftian  rgvilation.  It 
is  that  virtue  which  the  Gofpel  was  peculiarly  meant  to 
produce,  on  which  it  lays  tlm  graatift  ftrda,  and  in  which 
perhaps,  more  tlian  any  othtri  confiftg  th©  trut  eilinc© 
iind  vital  principle  of  the  Chriftian  ttmpfr.  We,  th©rg« 
fore,  find  the  ftrongefc  exhortations  to  it  in  almoit  evgry 
page  of  the  Gofpel.  "  I  fay  to  ivery  man  that  if  among 
you,"  fays  St.  Paul,  "  not  to  think  more  highly  of  biffl« 
felf  than  he  ought  to  think,  but  to  think  foberly.  Mind 
not  high  things :  be  not  wife  in  your  own  concetti,  but 
ccndefcend  to  men  of  low  eftate.  Stretch  not  yonrfelves 
beyond  your  meafure.  BlefTed  are  the  poor  in  fpirit,  fay? 
our  Lord,  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Whofo- 
ever  Ihall  humble  himfelf  as  a  littk  child,  the  fame  k 
greateft  in  the  kingdom  of  heareft*  Though  the  Lord 
be  high,  yet  hath  he  refped  to  the  lowly.  As  for  th^ 
■proud,  he  beholdeth  diem  afar  off.  Humble  yourfelves 
in  the  fight  of  the  Lord,  and  he  fhall  lift  you  up.  God 
refifteth  the  proud,  but  giveth  grace  to  the  humble.— ^ 
Learn  of  me,  fays  our  Saviour,  for  i  am  meek  and  lowly 
in  heart,  and  ye  fiiall  find  reft  unto  your  fouls*/* 

I  come  novv',  laHly,  to  confider  that  remarkable  part  of 
the  centurion's  charad:er,  more  particularly  noticed  by  our 
Lord,  I  mean  his  faith.  "  I  fay  unto  you,  I  have  not 
found  fo  great  faith,  no,  not  in  lirael.*'  Now  the  reafon 
of  the  high  encomiums  bedowed  on  him  by  our  Saviour 
on  this  account  was,  becaufe  he  reafoned  himfelf  into  a 
belief  of  our  Lord's  pov/er  to  work  miracles,  even  at  a 
Jiftance  ;  becaufe  he  Vv^ho  had  been  bred  up  in  the  princl' 
pies  of  heathenifm,  and  whofe  only  guide  wa§  the  light  of 
nature,  did  notwithftanding;  frankly  fubmit  himfelf  to 
fufficient  evidence,  and  was  induced  by  the  accounts  he 
had  received  of  our  Saviour's  do6lrines  and  mirackf,  to 

*  Rom.  xli.  3.  6'  i  Con  x.  14.  Muth.  v,  ^.  %vrX  4 
Plalni  cxxxviii.  6,    James  iv.  6.  xo,    Mattb.  %l>  JJ<?. 


228  LECTURE     VIIL 

acknowledge  that  he  was  a  divine  perfon.  Whereas  the 
Jews,  to  whom  he  w^as  firft  and  principally  fent,  who 
from  their  infancy  were  inftruded  in  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
in  which  were  fuch  plain  and  exprefs  promifes  of  the  Mef- 
fiah,  and  who  adually  did  expeft  his  coming  about  that 
i.lme,  fufFered  themfelves  to  be  fo  blinded  by  their  preju- 
dices and  paifions,  that  neither  the  unfpotted  fandity  of 
his  life,  the  excellence  of  his  -doctrine,  nor  the  repeated 
and  aftonifhing  miracles  which  he  wrought,  could  make 
the  flighteft  impreffion  on  the  greater  part  of  that  ftub- 
bom  people.  Kence  we  may  fee  how  impoifible  it  is  for 
any  degree  of  evidence  to  convince  thofe  who  are  deter- 
mined not  to  be  convinced  ?  and  what  little  hopes  there 
are  of  ever  fatisfying  modern  infidels,  if  they  will  not  be 
content  with  the  pioofi  they  already  have.  They  are  con- 
tinually complaining  for  want  of  evidence  ;  and  fo  were  the 
Jeivs  always  calling  out  for  new^  figns  and  new  wonders, 
even  when  miracles  were  daily  wrought  before  their  eyes. 
We  may,  therefore,  fay  of  the  former  what  our  Saviour 
faid  of  the  latter,  "  if  they  hear  not  Mofes  and  the  pro- 
phets, neither  v/ill  tliey  be  perfuaded,  though  one  rofe  from 
the  dead*."  It  is  poffible,  we  find,  for  incredulity  to  refift 
even  ocular  demonftration  ;  and  when  obftinacy,  vanity, 
and  vice  have  got  thorough  poiTefTion  of  the  heart,  they 
will  not  only  fubdue  reafon  and  enllave  the  underilanding, 
but  even  bar  up  all  the  fenfes,  and  fhut  out  convii^ion  at 
every  inlet  to  the  mind.  This  was  mod  eminently  the 
cafe  with  fome  of  the  principal  Jews.  Becaufe  our  Sav- 
iour's appearance  did  not  correfpond  to  their  erroneous; 
and  preconceived  idea  of  the  Mefliah^  becaufe  he  was  not 
a  triumphant  prince,  a  temporal  hero  and  deliverer  ;  but 
above  all,  becaufe  he  upbraided  them  vrith  their  vices, 
and  preached  up  repentance  and  reformation,  every  tefti- 
mony  that  he  could  give  of  his  divine  authority  and  pow- 
f.Y  was  rejcvfled  with  fcorn.  In  vain  did  he  feed  thoufands 
with  a  liandful  of  provifions  ;  in  vain  did  he  fend  av/ay 
difeafes  with  a  word  ;  in  vain  did  he  make  tl\e  graves  give 
^ack  their  dz^Ay  rebuke  the  winds  and  waves,  and  evil 
fpirits  ftill  mcr3  unruly  and  cbftinate  than  they.  In  an- 
Aver  to  all  this  they  could  fay,  "  Is  not  this  the  carpenter's 

*  Luke  xv:,  M. 


LECTURE    VIlL  129 

ion  ?  Does  he  not  eat  and  drink  with  publicans  and  fm- 
ners,  and  with  unwafhen  hands  ?  Does  he  not  even  break 
the  fabbath,  by  commanding  fick  men  to  carry  their  beds 
on  that  facred  day*  ?"  Thefe,  doubtlefs,  were  unan- 
fwerable  arguments  againft  miracles,  figns,  and  prophe- 
cies, againft  the  evidence  of  fenfe  itfelf,  againft  the  uni- 
verfal  voice  of  nature,  bearing  teftimony  to^  Chrift. 

The  honed  centurion,  on  the  contrary,  without  any 
judaical  prejudices  to  diftort  his  underftanding,  without 
afking  any  ill-timed  and  impertinent  queftions  about  the 
birth  or  family  of  Chrift,  attends  only  to  the  fadts  before 
him.  He  had  heard  of  Jefus,  had  heard  of  his  unblem- 
ifhed  life,  his  heavenly  dodlrines,  his  numerous  and  afton- 
ifhing  miracles,  had  heard  them  confirmed  by  fuch  tefti- 
mony as  no  ingenuous  mind  could  refift.  He  immediate- 
ly furrenders  himfelf  up  to  fuch  convincing  evidence  ;  and 
fo  far  from  requiring  (as  the  Jews  continually  did,  and  ai 
modem  fceptics  ftill  do)  more  and  ftronger  proofs,  he 
feems  afraid  of  fhewing  the  flighteft  diftruil  of  our  Sav- 
iour's power.  He  declares  his  belief  of  his  being  able  to 
perform  a  miracle  at  any  diftance  ;  and  entreats  him  not 
to  give  himfelf  the  trouble  of  coming  to  his  home  in  per- 
fon,  but  to  fpeak  the  word  only  and  his  fervant  fhould  be 
healed. 

This,  then,  is  the  difpofition  of  mind  vce  ought  more 
particularly  to  cultivate ;  that  freedom  from  felf-fufScien- 
cy  and  pride  and  prejudice  of  every  kind,  that  fimplicity 
and  fmglenefs  of  heart  which  is  open  to  conviction,  and 
receives,  without  refiftance,  the  facred  impreffions  of 
truth.  It  is  the  want  of  this,  not  of  evidence,  that  ftill 
makes  infidels  in  Europe  as  it  did  at  firft  in  Afia.  It  is 
this  principle  operating  in  different  ways  which  now  im- 
putes to  fraud  and  collufion  thofe  miracles  which  the  Jews 
afcribed  to  Beelzebub  ;  which  now  reje<fts  all  human  tefti* 
mony,  as  it  formerly  did  even  xhQ  perceptions  of  fenfe. 

Such  were  the  diftinguiftied  virtues  of  this  excellent 
centurion,  the  contemplation  of  whofe  chara<5ler  fuggefts 
to  us  a  variety  of  important  remarks. 

*  Matth.  ix,  XI.  xiii.  55.     Luke  xi.  38.     John  v.  iZ. 
JL 


ISO  L  E  C  T  U   R  E-    Vlir, 

The  firft  is,  that  the '  miraGles  of  our  Lard  had  th# 
fullefl  credit  given  to  them,  not  only  (as  is  fometimes 
afferted)  by  low,  obfcure,  ignorant,  and  ilh'terate  ];nen, 
but  by  men  of  rank  and  character,  by  men  of  the  world, 
by  men  perfectly  competent  to  afcertain  the  truth  of  any 
fa6ts  prefented  to  their  obfervation,  and  not  likely  to  be 
impofed  upon  by  falfe  pretences.  Of  this  defcription  was 
tlie  centurion  here  mentioned,  the  Roman  proconful  Ser- 
gius  Paulus,  Dionyfms  a  member  of  the  fupreme  court 
of  Areopagus  at  Athens,  and  feveral  others  of  equal 
dignity  and  confequence. 

Secondly,  the  hiflory  of  the  centurion  teaches  us,  that 
there  is  no  fituation  of  life,  no  occupation,  no  profeflion, 
however  unflivorable  it  may  appear  to  the  cultivation  of 
religion,  which  precludes  the  poffibility  or  exempts  us 
from  the  obligation  of  acquiring  thofe  good  difpofitions, 
and  exercifmg  thofe  Chriftian  virtues  which  the  Gofpel 
requires.  Men  of  the  world  are  apt  to  imagine  that  re- 
ligion was  not  made  for  them  ;  that  it  was  intended  only 
for  thofe  Vv^ho  pafs  their  days  in  obfcurity,  retirement,  and 
iblitude,  where  they  meet  with  nothing  to  inten-upt  their 
devout  contemplation,  no  allurements  to  divert  tlieir  at- 
tention, and  feduce  their  affedions  from  heaven  and  heav- 
enly things.  But  as  to  thofe  whofe  lot  is  caft  in  the  bufy 
and  the  tumultuous  fcenes  of  life,  who  are  engaged  in 
<rarious  occupations  and  profeffions,  or  furrounded  with 
gaities,  with  pleafures  and  temptations,  it  cannot  be  ex- 
p.edled  that  amidft  all  thefe  impediments,  interruptions, 
and  attradions,  they  can  give  up  much  of  their  time  and' 
ihoiights  to  another  and  a  diftant  world,  when  they  have 
fo  many  things  that  prefs  upon  them  and  arreft  thi(^r  at- 
tention in  this. 

'-  '^Thefcj  I  am  perfuaded,  arc  the  real  fentiments,  and 
tliey  are  perfe<I^ly  confonnable  to  the  a6tual  pradtice  of  a 
large  part  of  mankind.  But  to  all  diefc  pretences  the  in- 
ftance  of  the  cehturion  is  a  direcl:,  complete,  and  fatis- 
fadory  anfwer.  He  was  by  his  fituation  in  life  a  man  of 
the  world.  His  profeflion  was  that,  which  of  all  others,  is 
generally  conndcied-as  moft  adverfe  to  religious  fentiments 


LECTURE     VIII.  131 

and  habits,  moft  contrary  to  the  peaceful,  humane,  and  gen- 
tle fpirit  of  the  Gofpel,  and  moft  expofed  to  the  fafclna- 
tion  of  gaiety,  pleafure,  thoughtleihiefs,  and  diffipation. 
Yet  amidft  all  thefe  obftrucliions  to  purity  of  heart,  to 
mildnefs  of  difpofition  and  fanctity  of  manners,  we  fee 
this  illuftrious  centurion  rifmg  above  all  the  difadvanta- 
ges  of  his  fituation,  and  inftead  of  fmking  into  vice  and 
irreligion,  becoming  a  model  of  piety  and  humility,  and 
all  tliofe  virtues  which  neceflarily  fpring  from  fuch  princi- 
ples.    This  is  an  unanfwerable  proof,  that  whenever  men 
abandon  themfelves  to  impiety,  infidelity,  and  profligacy, 
-tJie  fault  is  not  in  the  fituation  but  in  the  heart  ;  and  that 
there  is  no  mode  of  life,  no  employment  or  profeffion, 
which  may  not,  if  we  pleafe,  be  made  confiftent  with  a 
fmcere  belief  in  the  Gofpel,  and  with  the  pra(5lice  of  eve- 
ry duty  we  owe  to  our  Maker,  our  Redeemer,  our  fellow- 
creatures,  and  ourfelves. 

Nor  is  this  the  only  inftance  in  point ;  for  it  is  extreme- 
ly remarkable,  and  well  worthy  our  attention,  that  among 
all  the  various  charaders  we  meet  with  in  the  New  Tefta- 
ment,  there  are  few  reprefented  in  a  more  amiable  light., 
or  fpoken  of  in  ftronger  terms  of  approbation,  than  thofs 
of  certain  military  men.  Befides  the  centurion  who  is 
the  fubjedt  of  this  Lecture,  it  v/as  a  centurion,  who  at  our 
Saviour's  crucifixion  gave  that  voluntary,  honeft,  and  un- 
prejudiced teftimony  in  his  favor,  "  Truly  this  ivas  the  Son 
of  Godf^'^  It  was  a  centurion  who  generoiifly  preferved 
the  life  of  St.  Paul,  when  a  propofition  was  made  to  de- 
ftroy  him  after  his  fhip wreck  on  the  illand  of  Melitaf , — 
It  was  a  centurion  to  whom  Saint  Peter  was  fent  by  the 
exprefs  appointment  of  God,  to  make  him  the  firft  con- 
vert among  the  Gentiles  :  a  diftindion  of  which  he  feem- 
ed,  in  every  refpeft,  worthy  ;  being,  as  we  are  told,  "  a 
jud  and  a  devout  man,  one  that  feared  God  with  all  his 
houfe,  that  gave  much  alms  to  the  people,  and  prayed  to 
God  alv/ay :{:.'* 

We  fee  then  that  our  centurion  was  not  the  only  military 
man  celebrated   in  the  Gofpel  for  his  piety  and  virtue ; 

*  Matth.  xxvU.  54.     f  Aasxivii.  43,     \  AcTts  x.  2, 


132  LECTURE     VIIL 

nor  are  there  wanting,*  thank  God,  diftinguifhed  inftances 
of  the  fame  kind  in  our  own  age,  in  our  own  nation, 
among  our  own  commanders,  and  in  the  recent  memory 
of  every  one  here  prefent.  All  which  examples  tend  to 
confirm  the  obfervation  already  made,  of  the  perfeft  con- 
fiftency  of  a  military,  and  every  other  mode  of  life,  with 
a  firm  belief  in  the  do6lrines  and  a  confcientious  obedience 
to  the  precepts  of  religion. 

Thirdly,  there  is  ftill  another  reflexion  arifmg  from  this 
circumftance,  with  which  I  fhall  conclude  the  prefent  Lec- 
ture ;  and  this  is,  that  when  we  obferve  men  bred  up  in 
arms  repeatedly  fpoken  of  in  fcripture  in  fuch  ftrong  terms 
of  commendation  as  thofe  we  have  mentioned,  we  are 
authorized  to  conclude,  that  the  profeflion  they  are  en- 
gaged in  is  not,  as  a  miftaken  fed  of  Chriftians  amongft 
us  profefTes  to  think,  an  unlawful  one.  On  the  contrary,  it 
feems  to  be  ftudioufly  placed  by  the  facred  writers  in  a 
favorable  and  an  honorable  light  ;  and  in  this  light  it  al- 
ways has  been  and  always  ought  to  be  confidered.  He 
who  undertakes  an  occupation  of  great  toil  and  great 
danger,  for  the  purpofe  of  ferving,  defending,  and  pro- 
tecting his  country,  is  a  moft  valuable  and  refpedtable 
member  of  fociety  ;  and  if  he  conducts  himfelf  with 
valor,  fidelity,  and  humanity,  and  amidft  the  horrors  of 
war  cultivates  the  gentle  manners  of  peace,  and  the  vir- 
tues of  a  devout  and  holy  life,  he  moft  amply  deferves, 
and  will  aflaredly  receive  the  efteem,  the  admiration,  and 
the  applaufe  of  his  grateful  country,  and  v\^hat  is  of  ftill 
greater  importnnce,  the  approbation  of  his  God. 


-4  •<.<•<..<••<••<.<•<••<•<.<••<••<•<-<••<••<■•<•<■<■■<>•>••>••>">••►.•>••>->••>••>•><>•>•><•>■■>■•»•  >•>■>>•>" 


LECTURE     IX. 


MATTHEW  X. 


I 


NOW  proceed  to  the  confideration  of  tlie  10th 

Chapter  of  St.  Matthew. 

In  the  preceding  chapter  v;e  find  our  Saviour  working 
a  great  variety  of  miracles.  He  healed  the  man  that  was 
fick  of  the  palfy,  and  forgave  his  fins ;  a  plain  proof  of 
his  divinity,  becaufe  none  but  God  has  the  power  and 
the  prerogative  of  forgiving  fins ;  and  therefore  the 
Jews  accufed  him  of  blafphemy  for  pretending  to  this  pow- 
er. He  alfo  cured  the  woman  who  touched  the  hem  of 
his  garment.  He  raifed  to  life  the  deceafed  daughter  of 
the  ruler  of  the  f)Tiagogue.  He  reftored  to  fight  the  two 
blind  men  that  followed  him  j  and  he  caft  out  from  a 
dumb  man  the  devil  with  which  he  was  pofTefled, 
and  reftored  him  to  his  fpeech.  Thefe  miracles  are  par- 
ticularly recorded  :  but  befides  thefe  there  muft  have  been 
a  prodigious  number  wrought  by  him,  of  which  no  dif- 
tindt  mention  is  made  ;  for  we  are  informed  in  the  3111 
verfe  that  he  went  about  all  the  cities  and  villages  teaching 
in  their  fynagogues,  and  preaching  the  gofpel  of  the 
kingdom,  and  healing  every  ficknefs  and  every  difeafe 
among  the  people. 

Thefe  continued  miracles  muft  necefiarily  have  produc- 
ed a  great  number  of  converts.  And  accordingly  we  find 
the  multitude  of  his  foliov/ers  was  now  fo  great,  that  he 
found  it  neceflary  to  appoint  fome  coadjutors  to  himfelf  in 
this  great  work.  "  The  harveft  truly  is  plenteous,  fays 
he  to  his  difciples,  but  the  laborers  are  few  ;  pray  ye 
therefore  the  Lord  of  tlie  harveft,  that  he  would  fend 
forth  laborers  into  his  harveft*." 

*  Matth.  H.  37,  38. 


1S4  L  E  C  T  U  R  E     IX. 

Thefe  laborers  he  now  determined  to  fend  forth  ;  and 
in  purfuance  of  this  refolution  we  find  him  in  the  begin- 
ning of  this  chapter  calling  together  his  difciples,  out  of 
whom  he  felected  twelve,  called  by  St.  Matthew  apollles 
or  meffengers,  whom  he  fent  forth  to  preach  the  gofpel, 
and  fumillied  them  with  ample  powers  for  that  purpofe  ; 
powers  fuch  as  nothing  lefs  than  Omnipotence  could  be- 
ftow.  The  names  of  thefe  apoftles  were  as  follows  ;  Pe- 
ter, Andrew,  James,  John,  Philip,  Bartholomew,  Tho- 
mas, Matthew,  another  James,  Thaddeus  or  Jude, 
Simon,  Judas  Ifcariot.  Thefe  twelve  perfons,  St.  Mat- 
thew tells  us,  Jefus  fent  forth,  and  commanded  them, 
faying,  "  Go  not  into  the  way  of  the  Gentiles,  and  into 
any  cities  of  the  Samaritans  enter  ye  not ;  but  go  rather 
to  the  loll  fheep  of  the  houfe  of  Ifrael  ;  and  as  ye  go, 
preach,  faying.  The  kingdom^  of  heaven  is  at  hand*.** 
This  was  the  bufmefs  which  they  were  fent  to  accomplifh  ; 
they  were  to  go  about  the  country  of  Judea,  and  to  preach 
to  the  Jews  in  the  nrft  place  the  holy  religion  which  their 
divine  mafter  had  juft  began  to  teach.  Then  follow  their 
powers  ;  "  heal  the  fick,  cleanfe  the  lepers,  raife  the  dead> 
caft  out  devils." 

After  this  come  their  inftru(5Hons,  and  a  variety  of  di- . 
regions  how  to  condudl  themfelves  in  the  difcharge  of 
their  arduous  and  important  mJffion,  of  which  I  fhall 
take  notice  hereafter  ;  but  muft  firft  offer  to  your  confid- 
eration  a  few  remarks  on  this  extraordinary  defignation  of 
the  apoftles  to  their  important  office. 

And  in  the  firft  place,  who  were  the  men  fmgled  out 
by  our  bleffed  Lord  for  the  purpofe  of  diifufing  his  reli- 
gion through  the  world  ;  that  is,  for  the  very  fmgular 
purpofe  of  perfuading  men  to  relinquifh  the  religion  of 
their  anceftors,  the  principles  they  had  imbibed  from  their 
infancy,  the  cuftoms,  the  prejudices,  the  habits,  the  ways 
of  thinking  which  they  had  for  a  long  courfe  of  years  in- 
dulged, and  to  adopt  in  their  room  a  fyftem  of  thinking 
and  a6ling  in  many  refpecls  diredtly  oppofite  to  them  ;  a 
religion  expofmg  them  to  many  prefent  hardfhips  and  fe* 

*  Matth.  X.  a— 3, 


L  E  C  T  U  Rf  E     IX.-  135- 

vere  trials,  and  referring  them  for  their  reward  to  a  dif- 
tant  period  of  time,  and  an  invifible  world.  Was  it  to 
be  expeded  tliat  fuch  a  change  as  this,  fuch  a  fudden  and 
violent  revolution  in  the  minds  of  men,  could  be  brought 
about  by  common  and  ordinary  inftruments  ?  Would  it 
not  require  agents  of  a  very  fuperior  order,  of  confidera- 
ble  influence  from  tlieir  birth  and  wealth  and  fituation  in 
life,  men  of  the  profoundefc  erudition,  of  the  brigliteft 
talents,  of  the  moft  confummate  knowledge  of  the  world 
and  the  human  heart,  of  the  moft  infniuating  manners, 
of  the  moft  commanding  and  fafcinating  eloquence  ? — 
Were  then  the  apoftles  of  this  defcription  ?  Quite  the  con- 
trary. They  were  plain,  humble,  unpretending  men,  of 
iov/  birth  and  low  occupations,  without  learning,  without 
education,  without  any  extraordinary  endowments,  natur- 
al or  acquired,  Vv'ithout  any  thing  in  fliort  to  recommend 
them  but  their  firnplicity,  integrity,  and  purity  of  manners. 
With  what  hopes  of  fuccefs  could  men  fuch  as  thefe  fet 
about  the  moft  difficult  of  all  enterprizes,  the  reformation 
of  a  corrupt  world,  and  the  converfion  of  it  to  a  new  faith  ? 
Yet  we  all  know  that  they  adlually  did  accomplifh  thefe 
two  moft  arduous  things,  and  that  on  the  foundations  they 
laid  the  whole  fuperftruclure  of  the  Chriftian  clmrch  has 
been  raifed,  and  the  divine  truths  of  the  Gofpel  fpread 
through  all  parts  of  tlie  civilized  world.  How  then  is 
this  to  be  accounted  for  ?  It  is  utterly  impoffible  to  ac-r 
count  for  it  in  any  way  but  that  which  Chrift  himfelf 
points  out,  in  this  very  charge  to  his  apoftles  :  "  Heal 
the  fick,"  fays  he  to  them  in  the  8th  verfe,  "  cleanfe  the 
lepers,  raife  the  dead,  caft  out  devils."  Here  is  the  ex- 
planation of  the  whole  myftery.  It  was  the  powers  with 
which  they  were  invefted,  the  miracles  they  were  enabled 
to  perform,  which  procured  fuch  multitudes  of  converts. 
The  people  faw  that  God  v/as  with  them,  and  that,  tliere- 
fore,  every  thing  they  taught  muft  be  true. 

Here  is  at  once  a  fufficient  caufe  afligned  for  the  effect 
produced  by  agents,  apparently  fo  unequal  to  the  produce 
tion  of  it.  We  challenge  all  tlie  infidels  in  the  world  to 
aflign  any  other  adequate  caufe.  They  have  never  yet 
done  it ;  and  we  affert  with  confidence  that  they  never 
can. 


l$6  '     LECTURE     IX. 

Thefe  then  were  the  powers  the  Apoftles  carried  along 
with  them  ;  and  where  fhall  we  find  the  fovereign  that 
could  ever  furnilh  his  ambafladors  with  fuch  qualifications 
as  thefe  ?  If  they  were  alked  with  what  authority  they 
were  invefted,  and  what  proofs  they  could  give  that  they 
were  adually  commi0ioned  to  inftruft  mankind  in  the 
principles  of  true  religion,  by  that  great  perfonage  the 
Son  of  God,  whofe  fervants  and  minifters  they  pretended 
to  be,  their  anfwer  was  lliort  and  decifive  ;  bring  us  your 
fick,  and  we  will  heal  them ;  fliew  us  your  lepers,  and 
we  will  cleanfe  them ;  produce  your  dead,  and  we  will 
reflore  them  to  life.  It  would  not  be  very  eafy  to  difpute 
the  authenticity  of  fuch  credentials  as  thefe. 

It  is  further  to  be  obferved  on  this  head,  that  the  cir- 
cumftance  of  our  Saviour  not  only  working  miracles  him- 
felf,  but  alfo  enabling  others  to  perform  them,  is  an  in- 
ftance  of  divine  power,  to  which  no  other  prophet  or 
teacher  before  him,  true  or  falfe,  ever  pretended.  In 
this,  as  in  many  other  refpecSs,  he  ftands  unrivalled  and 
alone. 

After  this  follow  fome  direftions,  no  lefs  lingular  and 
new.  *<  Provide  neither  gold  nor  filver,  nor  brafs  in  your 
purfes,  nor  fcrip  for  your  journey,  neither  two  coats, 
neither  fhoes,  nor  yet  ftaves*." 

That  is,  they  were  to  take  a  long  journey,  without 
making  any  other  provificn  for  it  than  the  ftaff  in  their 
hand,  and  the  clothes  they  had  on,  for,  fays  Jefus,  the 
workman  is  worthy  of  his  meat ;  an  intimation  that  the 
providence  of  God  would  watch  over  and  fupply  their 
wants.  This  required  fome  confidence  in  their  Mafter ; 
and  unlefs  they  had  good  grounds  for  thinking  that  it  was 
in  his  power  to  engage  Providence  on  their  fide  (or  in 
other  words,  that  he  was  a(5tually  tlie  Son  of  God)  they 
would  fcarce  have  run  the  rifk  of  fo  unpromifmg  an  expe- 
dition. But  this  conclufion  grows  infinitely  ftronger  when 
we  come  to  the  declaration  in  the  next  and  following  verTes. 

*  Matth.  X.  9— 10- 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E     IX.  1S7 

«*  Behold,  I  fend  you  fcrth  as  fheep  in  the  mldft  of  wolves ; 
be  ye  therefore,  wife  as  ferpents,  and  harmlefs  as  doves. 
But  beware  of  men  ;  for  they  v.-ill  deliver  you  up  to  the 
councils ;  and  they  v/ill  fcourge  you  in  the  fynagogues ; 
and  ye  fhail  be  brought  before  governors  and  kings  for  my 
name's  fake,  for  a  teflimcny  againft  them  and  the  Gen- 
tiles ;  and  the  brother  fliall  deliver  up  the  brother  to  death* 
and  the  father  the  child ;  and  the  children  fhall  rife  up 
againft  their  parents,  and  caufe  them  to  be  put  to  death  ; 
and  ye  fliall  be  hated  of  all  men  for  my  name's  fake*." 

What  now  Ihall  we  fay  to  this  extraordinary  and  unex- 
ampled declaration  ? 

When  a  fovereign  fends  his  ambafladors  to  a  foreign 
country,  he  makes  an  ample  provifion  for  their  journey, 
he  afligns  them  a  liberal  allowance  for  their  fupport,  and 
generally  holds  out  at  the  fame  time  the  profpea  of  a  fu- 
ture reward  for  their  labors  and  their  fervices  to  their 
country  on  their  return  from  their  embafTy.  And  without 
this  few  men  would  be  difpofed  to  undertake  the  commif- 
fion. 

But  here  every  thing  is  the  reverfe  ;  inftead  of  fupport, 
they  were  to  micet  with  perfecution  ;  inftead  of  an  honor- 
able reception;  they  were  to  experience  univerfal  hatred 
and  deteftation  ;  inftead  of  rew^ard,  they  were  to  be  ex- 
pofed  to  certain  ruin  and  deftruflion,  and  to  be  let  loofe 
like  fo  many  fheep  among  wolves- 
Can  we  now  conceive  it  pcfiible  that  any  men  in  their 
fenfes  ftiould,  without  fome  very  powerful  and  extraordi= 
Tiary  motive,  voluntarily  undertake  fuch  a  ccm-miflion  as 
this,  in  which  their  only  reccmpence  was  to  be  affliaion, 
mifery,  pain,  and  death ;  in  which  all  the  natural  affec-^ 
tions  of  the  human  heart  were  to  be  extinguifhed  or  in- 
verted, and  their  neareft  relations,  their  parents,  children, 
or  brethren,  were  to  be  their  perfecutors  and  executioners  ? 
Is  it  ufual  for  human  beings  wantonly  and  needlefsly  to 
?xpcfe  themfelves  to  fuch  evils  as  thefe,  without  the  leaft 

♦  Matth-  X.  i6,  17,  18,  ai,  2?,, 
L  2 


138  LECTURE     IX. 

profpe6l  of  any  advantage  to  themfelves  or  their  families  ? 
You  may  fay  perhaps  that  fimple,  ignorant,  uneducated 
men,  like  the  apoftles,  might  eafily  be  deluded  by  an  art- 
ful leader,  and  betrayed  into  very  dreadful  calamities, 
and  that  we  fee  multitudes  thus  deceived  and  ruined  every 
day.  It  is  true  ;  but  where  in  this  cafe  is  the  ari  of  the 
leader,  or  the  dehfwn  of  his  followers  ?  In  the  cafes  allud- 
ed to,  men  are  induced  to  embark  in  perilous  undertak- 
ings, and  to  run  headlong  into  deft  ruction,  by  fair  prom- 
ifes  and  tempting  offers,  by  promifes  of  liberty,  of  wealth, 
of  honor,  of  popularity,  of  glory.  But  here,  inftead  of 
employing  any  art,  or  making  any  attempt  to  deceive  his 
followers,  our  Saviour  plainly  tells  them  they  are  to  expeft' 
nothing  but  what  is  moft  dreadful  to  human  nature.  What- 
ever they  fuffered,  therefore,  they  fuffered  with  their  eyes 
open,  and  with  their  ov/n  free  choice  and  confent.  It  is  true 
they  were  plain  ignorant  men ;  but  they  could  feel  pain,  and 
they  could  have  no  more  fondnefs  for  mifery  and  death  than 
other  people.  Yet  this  they  did  adually  and  chearfuUy 
undergo  at  the  command  of  their  Lord.  How  is  this  to 
be  explained  and  accounted  for  ?  Is  there  any  inftance  up- 
on record  before  this  in  the  annals  of  the  world,  where 
twelve  grave  fober  men,  without  any  reafon,  and  without 
being  mified  by  any  artifice  or  delufion  whatever,  volun- 
tarily expofed  themfelves  at  the  defire  of  another  perfon 
to  perfecution,  torment,  and  deftrudtion !  There  mull 
liave  been  fome  cogent  reafon  for  fuch  a  conduct  as  this  ; 
and  that  reafon  could  be  nothing  lefs  than  a  full  and  per- 
fefl:  conviftion,  arifmg  from  the  miracles  which  they  faw 
with  their  ov/n  eyes,  and  which  they  themfelves  v/ere  ena- 
bled to  perform,  that  Chrift  was  what  he  pretended  to  be", 
the  Son  of  God  ;  that  ^11  power  was  given  to  him  in  heavr 
en  and  on  earth  ;  and  that  he  was  able  to  fulfil  the  promif^ 
es  he  had  made  them  of  a  recompence  in  a  future  life, 
infinitely  furpaifrng  in  magnitude  and  in  duration  all  tlic 
fufferings  they  could  experience  in  the  prefent  world. 

This  is  the  only  rational  account  to  be  given  of  their 
condavfi:,  and  it  prefcnts  to  us  in  a  fliort  compafs  a  ftrong 
convincing  evidence  of  the  truth  of  the  Chriftian  reve- 
lation. 


LECTURE     IX.  139 

In  order  to  fortify  the  minds  of  his  difciples  againft  the 
fevere  trials  they  were  to  undergo,  our  blefTed  Lord,  in 
the  28th  verfe,  adds  the  following  exhortation  :  "  Fear 
not  them  which  kill  the  body,  but  are  not  able  to  kill  the 
foul ;  but  rather  fear  him  which  is  able  to  deftroy  both  foui 
and  body  in  hell." 

This  palTage  contains  a  decifive  proof  of  two  very  im- 
portant dcdtrines,  the  exiftence  of  a  foul  diftindl  from  the 
body,  and  the  continuance  of  that  foul  after  death  (both 
of  which,  in  dircd  oppcfition  to  this  and  many  other  paf- 
fages  of  fcripture,  feme  late  writers  have  dared  to  contro- 
vert;)  and  it  plainly  refers  the  apoftles  to  the  ccnfideration 
cf  a  future  life,  in  which  all  their  viewsi,  their  hopes  and 
fears,  were  to  center,  and  by  which  their  condu6h  in  this 
world  was  entirely  to  be  regulated.  The  worft  their  ene- 
mies could  do  to  them  in  this  life  was  to  kill  the  body, 
which  muft  fcir.e  time  or  other  be  deftroyed  by  age  or 
difeafe.  Eut  God  was  able  to  kill  the  foul,  which  was 
foimed  for  immortality,  to  annihilate  it  at  once,  or  to 
condemn  it  to  everlafting  punilhment.  It  was,  therefore, 
cf  infinitely  more  confequence  to  avoid  his  difpleafure> 
and  to  fecure  his  approbation  by  performing  their  duty, 
than  by  fiiamiefully  deferting  it  to  efcape  the  inflidion  of 
the  bittereft  evils  that  their  fellow  creatures  could  bring  up- 
on them. 

In  conformity  to  this  advice  he  tells  them,  "  that  he 
that  endureth  to  the  end  fhall  be  faved  :  and  that  he  who 
lofes  his  life  for  his  fake  in  this  world,  fhall  find  it  in  a  far 
more  exalted  fenfe  in  the  next*." 

This  was  fohd  comfort  and  fubftantial  fupport.  But 
unlefs  cur  Lord  had  given  them  irrefiftible  miraculous 
evidence  cf  the  reality  of  this  future  reward,  unlefs  they 
had  abfolute  demonftration  cf  its  certainty,  it  was  utterly 
imipcfiible  that  they  could  bs  fo  mad  as  to  facrifice  to  this 
expedaticn  every  thing  moft  valuable  in  this  life,  and  even 
life  itfelf, 

*  Matth.  X.  3?, — 39, 


i^O  JU  E  C  T  U  R  E     IX. 

As  a  mil  further  fupport  under  the  terrifying  profped 
which  our  bleffed  Lord  had  held  up  to  the  apoftles,  he  af- 
fures  them  tliat  the  providence  of  God  would  continually 
fuperintend  and  watch  over  them. 

"  Are  not  two  fparrows,  fays  he,  fold  for  a  farthing, 
and  one  of  them  fhall  not  fall  to  the  ground  without  your 
Father  ;  but  the  very  hairs  of  your  head  are  all  numbered. 
Fear  ye  not,  therefore,  ye  are  of  more  value  than  many 
fparrows*." 

Here  we  have  that  mofl  important  and  comfortable  doc- 
trine of  a  particular  Providence  plainly  and  clearly  laid 
down. 

That  he  who  erefled  the  immenfe  and  magnificent  fab- 
ric of  the  univerfe  will  continue  to  regard  and  to  preferve 
the  work  of  his  own  hands,  and  maintain  what  is  called 
the  general  order  of  nature,  and  the  ordinary  courfe  of 
human  affairs,  is  fo  confonant  to  reafon  and  common  fenfe, 
that  few  even  of  the  pagans  who  believed  the  being  of  a 
God,  entertained  any  doubt  of  this  general  fuperintend- 
ence  of  the  Deity  over  the  worlds  he  has  created,  and  the 
inhabitants  he  has  placed  in  them.  But  when  we  defcend 
from  this  comprehenfive  view  of  things  to  the  feveral  con- 
ftituent  parts  of  the  general  fyftem,  and  to  every  individ- 
ual of  every  fpecies  of  animated  beings  difperfed  through- 
out the  whole  ;  when  we  refleft  how  very  inconfiderable  a 
place  this  globe  .that  we  inhabit  holds  amongft  the  celeftial 
bodies,  how  very  fmall  a  portion  it  occupies  of  unbound- 
ed fpace,  and  how  infinitely  minute  and  infignificant  every 
human  creature  mufc  appear  in  the  vaft  mafs  of  created 
beings,  we  can  hardly  think  it  poflible  that  the  care  of  the 
Supreme  Being  ihould  extend  to  ourfelves ;  we  cannot 
help  fearing  that  we  (hall  be  loft  and  overlooked  in  the 
immenfity  of  creation,  and  that  we  are  objeds  far  too 
fmall  and  minute  to  fall  within  the  fphere  of  our  Maker's 
obfervation.  The  more  we  reafon  on  this  fubje(5t,  the 
more  ground  we  fhall  find  for  thefe  apprehenfions  ;  and 
there  is  nothing,  I  will  venture  to  fay,  in  the  whole  com' 

*  Mattli.  X.  29,  10^  31. 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E     IX.  141 

pafs  of  what  is  called  natural  religion  or  modem  philofo- 
phy,  that  can  in  the  finalleft  degree  tend  to  allay  or  to  re- 
move thefe  natural,  thefe  unavoidable  mifgivings  of  the 
human  mind. 

Here  then  is  one  of  thofe  many  inftances  in  which  we 
can  have  no  certainty,  no  folid  ground  for  the  fole  of  our 
foot  to  (land  upon,  but  in  the  Gofpel  of  Chrift.  Our  rea- 
fon,  though  fent  out  ever  fo  often  in  fearch  of  a  refting 
place,  returns  to  us,  like  Noah's  dove,  when  the  waters 
covered  the  earth,  without  any  token  of  comfort.  It  is 
fcripture  only  which  in  this  important  point  can  give  reft 
unto  our  fouls.  There  we  are  afTured  that  every  individual 
being,  even  the  leaft  and  moft  contemptible,  even  the  fpar- 
row  that  is  fold  for  lefs  than  a  farthing,  is  under  the  eye  of 
the  Almighty  ;  that  fo  far  from  man  being  too  inconfider- 
able  for  die  notice  of  his  Maker,  the  minuteft  parts  of 
his  body,  the  very  hairs  of  his  head,  are  all  numbered. 
Thefe  very  ftrong  inftances  are  plainly  chofen  on  purpofe 
to  quiet  all  our  fears,  and  to  banifh  from  our  minds  every 
idea  of  our  being  too  fmall  and  infignificant  for  the  care 
and  protection  of  the  Almighty. 

This  moft  confolatory  dodtrine  of  a  particular  Provi- 
dence, of  a  Providence  which  watches  over  every  individ- 
ual of  the  human  race,  places  the  Chriftian  in  a  fituation 
totally  different  from  that  of  every  one  who  disbelieves 
revelation.  The  latter  muft  conceive  himfelf  under  no 
other  government  but  that  of  chance  or  fortune,  and  of 
courfe  muft  confider  the  whole  happinefs  of  his  life  as  ex- 
pofed  every  moment  to  the  mercy  of  the  next  accident  that 
may  befal  him.  The  true  believer  on  the  contrary  has 
the  moft  perfed  convi^ion  that  he  is  conftantly  under  tlie 
protedion  of  an  almighty  and  merciful  God,  in  whom  he 
lives,  and  moves,  and  has  his  being  ;  "  whofe  eyes  are 
over  the  righteous,  and  whofe  ears  are  open  to  their  pray- 
ers ;"  that  therefore  if  he  lives,  fo  as  to  merit  the  appro- 
bation  of  his  heavenly  Father,  he  has  every  reafon  to 
hope  for  fuch  a  degree  of  happinefs,  even  here,  as  the 
imperfedion  of  human  nature  will  admit ;  and  he  is  cer- 
tain that  notliing  dreadful  can  bcfal  him  without  the  know- 


142  L  E  C  T  U  R  E     IX. 

ledge  and  permlflTion  of  his  great  Proteclor,  who  will 
even  in  that  cafe  fupport  him  under  it,  and  render  it  ulti- 
mately conducive  to  his  good. 

The  next  paflage  In  this  chapter  to  which  I  fhall  diredl 
your  attention,  is  that  very  remarkable  one  which  has 
furnifhed  the  enemies  of  Chriftianity  with  fo  much  pre- 
tence for  obloquy  and  inve£live  againil  the  Gofpel,  and 
has  been  the  fource  of  no  fmall  uneafmefs  and  difmay  to 
fome  of  its  warmell  friends.  The  parage  I  mean  is  this  ; 
"  Think  not"  (fays  our  Lord)  "  I  am  come  to  fend  peace 
on  earth,  I  came  not  to  fend  peace  but  a  fword  ;  for 
I  am  come  to  fet  a  man  at  variance  againft  his  father,  and 
the  daughter  againft  her  mother,  and  the  daughter-in-law 
againft  her  mother-in-law,  and  a  man's  foes  fhall  be  thofe 
of  his  own  houfehold  *.'* 

What  fhall  we  fay  now  (exclaims  the  infidel)  to  this 
extraordinary  declaration  ?  Here  we  have  the  Author  of 
the  Chriftlan  religion  himfelf  openly  and  explicitly  avow- 
ing that  he  came  to  fend  a  fword  upon  earth,  to  dilTolve 
all  the  tender  endearing  ties  of  domeftic  affection,  to  fet 
the  neareft  relations  at  variance,  and  to  arm  them  with 
inextinguifhable  rage  and  rancor  againft  each  other. 

But  can  this  be  really  tlie  fenfe  of  our  Saviour's  words  I 
Can  He  mean  to  denounce  war  and  deftrafllon  to  the  hu- 
man fpecies  ?  He  whofe  whole  religion  breathes  nothing 
but  peace,  gentlenefs,  klndnefs,  and  compaftion,  to  every 
human  being  ;  who  made  charity  or  the  love  of  man  the 
great  chara6teriftic  mark  of  his  religion  :  who  exprefsly 
forbade  his  difciples  "  to  call  down  fire  from  heaven'*  on 
thofe  who  had  infulted  them  ^  who  in  this  very  chapter 
commanded  them  "  to  be  harmlefs  as  doves  ;  and  declar- 
ed that  he  came  not  to  deftroy  men's  lives,  but  to  fave 
themf  ?"  It  is  evidently  impoffible  that  the  author  of 
fuch  precepts  and  fuch  profeffions  could  mean  literally  to 
fpread  ruin  and  defolation  over  the  earth.  What  then 
was  his  meaning  ?  It  was  to  obviate  an  error  into  v/hich . 
the  apoftles  would  be  very  apt  to  fall,  and  which  proba- 

*  Matth.  X.  34.  25,  3^r         f  Matth-   x    16.     Luke  ix    s^. 


LECTURE     IX.  14^ 

bly  our  Saviour  faw  rifmg  in  their  minds.  You  tell  us 
(they  perhaps  faid  within  themfelves, )  you  tell  us  that  we 
fliall  be  perfecuted,  tormented,  and  put  to  death,  and 
that,  even  by  thofe  who  are  moft  nearly  conneded  xAxh.  us. 
But  how  is  this  poffible  ?  How  can  all  this  happen  under 
your  prctedlion,  under  the  reign  of  the  Meffiah,  the 
Prince  of  Peace,  under  whom  we  have  always  been 
given  to  exped  tranquility,  repofe,  and  happinefs  ?  To 
this  fuppofed  reafoning  our  Saviour  anfv/ers ;  You  are 
miftaken  in  your  idea  of  that  peace,  which  I,  your  Meffi- 
ah,  am  to  give  you.  It  is  not  immediate  temporal  peace, 
but  peace  in  a  fpiritual  fenfe,  peace  in  your  own  minds, 
and  peace  witli  God.  Ultimately  indeed  I  fhall  eflablifli 
peace  in  every  fenfe  of  the  word,  and  **  fhall  make  wars  to 
to  ceafe  in  all  the  world*  ;"  but  at  prefent,  and  indeed 
for  many  years  to  come,  I  fhall  not  bring  peace  but  a 
fword  upon  earth.  The  promulgation  of  my  religion 
will  be  productive  of  much  diffenfion,  cruelty,  and  pcr- 
fecuticn,  not  only  to  you,  but  to  all  thofe  who  for  many 
ages  afterwards  fhall  preach  the  Gofpel  in  purity  and  truth. 
The  true  eav/e  of  this  will  be  the  wickednefs  and  the  fe- 
rocious paffions  of  men  ;  but  the  occafion  and  the  pretence 
for  it  will  be  the  holy  religion  which  you  are  to  promul- 
gate. In  this  fenfe,  and  in  this  only,  it  is  that  I  may  be 
faid  to  bring  a  fword  upon  earth ;  but  they  who  rea//y 
bring  it,  are  the  open  enemies  or  pretended  friends  of  tlie 
Gofpel. 

Still  it  is  faid  by  tlie  adrerfaries  of  our  faith,  that  how- 
ever thefe  words  may  be  interpreted,  the  fad  is,  that 
Chriftians  themfelves  liave  brought  a  fword,  and  a  moft 
deftmdive  fword,  upon  earth  :  that  they  have  perfecuted 
one  another  with  inconceivable  rancor  and  fury  ;  and  that 
their  dilfenfions  have  produced  more  bloodflied,  mifery, 
and  defolation,  among  mankind,  than  all  the  other  wars 
of  contending  nations  put  together. 

To  this  I  anfwer  in  the  firft  place,  tliat  tlie  charge  as 
here  ftated  is  not  true.  It  is  not  true  that  wars  of  leligion 
have  been  more  frequent  and  more  fanguinary  than  any 

""  Pfalmxlvi    9, 


Ui  LECTURE     IS. 

others.  On  the  contrary,  it  may  be  proved  in  the  cleared 
manner,  from  the  moll  authentic  fadis,  that  by  far  the 
greateft  number  of  wars,  as  well  as  the  iongeft,  moft  ex^ 
tenfive,  and  moil  deftruftive,  have  been  owing  to  caufes 
purely  poKtical,  and  tliofe  too  fometimes  of  the  moil  trivial 
nature.  And  if  we  can  allow  men  to  harafs  and  dellroy  one 
another  for  a  mere  point  of  honor,  or  a  few  acres  of  land, 
why  fhould  we  think  it  flrange  to  fee  them  defending,  with 
the  fame  heat  and  bitternefs,  what  they  conceive  to  be  the 
mod  effential  requilite  to  happinefs  both  here  and  here* 
after  ? 

2dly.  I  muft  obferve,  that  a  very  large  part  of  thofe 
animofities,  wars,  and  maflacres,  which  have  been  ufually 
ftiled  religious y  and  with  the  entire  guilt  of  which  Chrif^ 
rianity  has  been  very  unjuftly  loaded,  have  been  altogether, 
or  at  leafl  in  a  great  meafure,  owing  to  caufes  of  a  very 
different  nature ;  to  the  ambition,  the  refentment,  the 
avarice,  the  rapacity  of  princes  and  of  conquerors,  who 
alTumed  the  mafk  of  religion  to  veil  their  real  purpofes, 
and  who  pretended  to  fight  in  the  caufe  of  God  and  his 
church,  when  they  had  in  reality  nothing  elfe  in  view  than 
to  advance  their  power  or  extend  their  dominions.  All 
hiHory  is  full  of  inllances  of  this  kind. 

Sdly.  It  fhould  be  remembered,  that  the  wildeft  ex- 
ceffes  of  religious  perfecution  did  not  take  place  till  the 
world  was  overrun  with  barbarity,  ignorance,  bigotry, 
and  fuperllition  ;  till  military  ideas  predominated  in  every 
thing,  in  the  form  of  government,  in  the  temper  of  the 
laws,  in  the  tenure  of  lands,  in  the  adminiftration  of  juf- 
lice  itfelf ;  and  till  the  Scriptures  were  fliut  up  in  a  foreign 
tongue,  and  were  therefore  unknown  to  the  people.  It 
was  not  therefore  from  the  Gofpel,  but  from  a  total  ignor- 
ance of  the  Gofpel,  from  a  total  perverfion  of  its  true 
temper,  genius,  and  fpirit,  that  thefe  exceffes  and  enormi- 
ties arofe. 

4jtlily.  That  this  is  tlie  real  truth  of  the  cafe  appears 
demonllrably  from  this  circumftance,  that  when  after  the 
reformation  the  Scriptures  were  tranflated  into  the  feveral 
vernacular  languages  of  Europe,  and  the  real  nature  of 


IL  E  C  T  U  R  E     IX.  145 

the  Chriftian  revelation  became  of  couiie  more  generallr 
known,  the  violence  of  perfecuticn  began  to  abate  ;  and 
as  tlie  facred  writings  were  more  and  more  ftudied,  and 
their  true  fenfe  better  underftood,  the  baneful  fpirit  of  in- 
tolerance loft  ground  every  day,  and  the  divine  principle 
of  Chriftian  charity  and  benevolence  has  been  continually 
gaining  frefn  ftrength  ;  till  at  length,  at  the  prefent  moment? 
perfecution  by  Chriftians  on  the  fccre  of  religion  only  has 
almoft  entirely  vanifned  from  the  face  of  the  earth  ;  and 
we  may  venture  to  indulge  the  hope,  that  wars  of  religion> 
.ftridtly  fo  called,  v/ill  be  heard  of  no  more* 

I  now  proceed  to  explain  the  verfes  immediately  follow- 
ing tliat  which  we  have  been  juft  confidering. 

"  I  am  come,  fays  our  Lord,  to  fet  a  man  at  variance 
.againft  his  father,  and  the  daughter  againft  her  mother, 
and  the  daughter-in-law  againft  her  mother-in-law,  and  a 
•man's  foes  fhall  be  thofe  of  his  ov/n  houfehcld." 

This  pafTage  is  a  clear  proof  that  the  calamities  and 
"miferies  predi6ted  in  the  preceding  verfe  relate  primarily 
and  principally  to  the  apoftles  themfelves,  becaufe  thefe 
words  are  almoft  a  repetition  of  "what  our  Lord  applied  to 
them  in  the  27th  verfe,  "  The  brother  jQiall  deliver  up  the 
brother  to  death,  and  the  father  the  child ;  and  the  chil- 
dren ftiall  rife  up  againft  their  parents,  and  caufe  them  to 
be  put  to  death*." 

Now  as  thefe  cruelties  were  iniii<5Led  on  the  apoftles,  not 
by  believers,  but  by  unbelieving  Jews  and  heathens,  that 
is,  by  the  enemies  of  the  Gofpel,  it  is  evident,  that  when 
our  Saviour  fays  he  came  to  fet  a  man  at  variance  againft 
his  father,  and  fo  on,  he  meant  only  to  fay,  that  the  reli- 
gion which  he  taught  would  meet  with  the  moft  violent 
oppofition  from  the  world,  and  would  expofe  his.  apoftles 
and  difciples  to  tlie  moft  unjuft  and  inhuman  treatment, 
even  fometimes  from  their  neareft  relations. 

Our  Lord  then  goes  on  to  fay,  "  He  that  loveth  father 
and  mother  more  than  me,  is  not  worthy  of  me  f ."     This 

*  M?.tth.  s.  2r.  t  Matth,  x.  37, 

M  * 


346  L  E  C  T  U  R  £     IX. 

has  an  evident  reference  to  the  two  preceding  verfes  ;  'hr 
which  our  Lord  had  declared,  that  araidft  the  various 
raiieries  that  would  be  occafioned  by  the  wiclcednefs  and 
barbarity  of  thofe  who  rejected  and  refilled  the  Chriftian 
religion,  diffentions  would  arife  even  among  thofe  mod 
nearly  connedled  with  each  other,  and  the  tiue  Chriftian 
would  fometimes  find  his  bittereft  enemies  even  in  the  bo- 
fom  of  his  own  family.  A  father  would  perhaps  perfe- 
cute  his  own  fon,  and  a  mother  her  daughter,  an  ac- 
count of  -her  religious  opinions,  and  would  by  argu- 
ment and  by  influence  endeavor  to  perfuade,  or  by  au- 
thority and  power  to  compel  them  to  abjure  their  faith. 
In  cafes  flich  as  thefe  our  Lord  here  intimates,  that 
when  the  choice  is  between  renouncing  our  neareft  re- 
lations and  renouncing  our  religion,  we  muft  not  hefitate 
a  moment  what  part  we  ai^  to  take  ;  we  muft,  to  obey 
God  rather  than  man,  we  muft  give  up  all  and  follow 
Chrift.  "  He  tliat  loveth  father  and  mother  more  than 
me,  is  not  worthy  of  me  ;  and  he  that  loveth  fon  and 
daughter  more  than  me,  is  not  worthy  of  me*."  That 
is  evidently  when  the  neareft  and  deareft  relation^  come  in 
competition  with  our  behef  in  Chrift,  and  obedience  to 
his  commands,  our  affedlion  for  them  and  deference  to 
their  opinions  muft  give  place  to  love  for  our  Redeemer 
and  attachment  to  our  Maker. 

In  the  parallel  place  of  St.  Luke  this  precept  is  expreff- 
ed  in  ftill  ftronger  terms.  "  If  any  man  come  to  me,  and 
hate  not  his  father  and  mother,  and  wife,  and  children, 
and  brethren,  and  fifters,  yea,  and  his  ovm  .life  alfo,  he 
cannot  be  my  difciplef .'' 

The  mind  of  the  reader  Is  at  the  firft  view  apt  to  revolt 
at  the  feeniing  harflmefs  of  this  declaration  ;  but  it  is  evi- 
dently nothing  more  than  a  bolder  and  more  figurative 
way  (according  to  a  well-known  Hebrew  Idiom)  ot  con- 
veying the  very  fame  fentlment  that  St.  Matthew  clothe^: 
in  gentler  language.  It  means  nothing  more  than  that  we 
ought  to  entertain  a  more  ardent  aifedion  for  our  heavenly 
father  than  for  our  eartlily  parents  ;  and  tliat  his  com- 

*  A(5ls,  V.  .29.  f  Luke.  xiv.  26. 


JL  E  C  T  U  R  E     IX.  147 

mands  mad  be  preferred  to  theirs  whenever  they  liappen 
to  interfere.  And  in  the  fame  manner  feveral  other  appa- 
rently fevere  injunaions  in  the  Gofpel  are  to  be  explained 
and  mitigated  by  others  of  the  fame  import,  but  more 
perfpicuoufly  and  more  mJIdly  expreffed. 

But  we  are  not  only  enjoined  to  love  Chrift  and  his  reli- 
gion more  tlian  our  neareft  relations,  Tvhere  they  happen 
to  interfere,  but  even  more  than  our  o^vn  life.  "  Ke  that 
taketh  not  his  crofs  and  followeth  after  me,  is  not  worthy  of 
me*."  This  plainly  alludes  to  the  culiom  of  perfons  who 
were  going  to  be  crucified  bearing  their  own  crofs ;  and 
the  literal  and  primary  meaning  is,  that  we  fhould  be  rea- 
dy, if  called  upon,  to  undergo  even  that  painful  and  ig-- 
nominious  death,  rather  than  renounce  our  faith.  This 
indeed  is  a  moft  fevere  trial ;  but  it  is  a  trial  which  it  is 
not  only  our  duty  but  our  intereft  to  undergo,  if  reduced 
to  the  nec^flity  either  of  forfeiting  our  life,  or  renouncing 
our  allegiance  to  Chrift.  For  we  are  told  here  by  our 
jLord  himfelf,  tliat  «  he  who  findeth  his  life,  fhall  lofe  it, 
^d  he  that  lofeth  his  life  for  his  fake  ihail  find  it  f.'^ 
That  is,  whoever  to  fave  his  life  apoftatizes  from  his  faith, 
lliall  be  punifhed  with  the  lofs  of  that  life  which  alone  de- 
ferves  the  name,  life  everlafting.  But  he  who  facrifices 
his  life  to  his  religion  in  this  v/orld,  fhall  be  rewarded  with 
eternal  life  in  the  world  to  come. 

*  Matth.  X.  38.        t  Ibid.  39 


^..<..<..<..<..<..<..<.  .<..<..<..<<.<••<■•<-<••<'<■•<••<••<••<>••>••>">•>••>••>•>•>••>•>■•>■>•>•>•>•■>•  >••>■>'•>">'- 


LECTURE     X. 


MATTHEW  xlL 

i  HE  nest  chapter  which  feems  more  peculiarly 
to  deferve  our  attention,  and  to  require  fome  explanation 
and  illuftration,  is  the  12th  chapter  of  St.  Matthew. 

It  begins  thus  :  "  At  that  time  Jefus  went  on  the  fab- 
bath-day  through  the  corn,  and  his  difciples  were  an  hun- 
gred,  and  began  to  pluck  the  ears  of  com  and  to  eat. 
But  when  the  Pharifees  faw  it,  they  faid  unto  him,  behold 
thy  difciples  do  that  which  is  not  lawful  to  d®  on  the  fab- 
bath-day.  But  he  faid  unto  them,  have  ye  not  read  what 
David  did  when  he  was  an  hungred,  and  they  that  were 
with  him  ?  How  he  entered  into  the  houfe  of  God,  and 
did  eat  the  fhew-bread,  which  it  was  not  lawful  for  him  to 
eat,  neither  for  them  which  were  with  him,  but  only  for 
the  priefts  ?  Or  have  ye  not  read  in  the  law,  how  that  on 
tlie  fabbath-day  the  priefts  in  the  temple  profane  the  fab- 
bath,  and  are  blamelefs  ?  But  I  fay  unto  you,  that  in  this 
place  is  one  greater  than  the  temple.  But  if  ye  had 
known  what  this  meaneth^  /  will  have  mercy  and  not  facri- 
Jicey  ye  would  not  have  condemned  the  guiitlefs  ;  for  the 
Son  of  man  is  Lord  even  of  the  fabbath-day.  And  when 
he  was  departed  thence,  he  went  into  the  fynagogue. 
And  there  was  a  man  which  had  his  hand  withered  ;  and 
they  afked  him,  faying,  is  it  lawful  to  heal  on  the  fabbath- 
day  ?  that  they  might  accufe  him.  And  he  faid  unto 
them,  what  man  fhall  there  be  among  you  that  fhall  have 
one  iheep,  and  if  it  fall  into  a  pit  on  the  fabbath-day,  will 
he  not  lay  hold  on  it,  and  lift  it  out  ?  How  much  then  is 
a  man  better  than  a  flieep  ?  Wherefore  it  is  lawful  to  do 
VN^ell  on  the  fabbath-day.  Then  faith  he  to  the  man, 
ftretch  forth  thine  hand.  And  he  ftretched  it  forth,  and 
it  was  reftored  whole  like  the  other." 


150  I.  S  C  T  U  R  E     X, 

Although  here  are  two  different  tranfadions  related,. 
that  of  plucking  the  ears  of  corn,  and  healing  the  wither* 
ed  hand,  yet  as  they  are  clofely  connected  together  by  the 
evangeiiir,  and  relate  to  the  fame  fubje(5l,  the  obfervation- 
cf  the  fabbath,  I  have  recited  the  whole  pafTage  compre- 
hending both  thefe  incidents  at  length,  that  you  might 
have  before  you  at  one  view  all  that  our  Saviour  has  faid 
on  tliis  important  branch  of  our  duty,  and  that  we  might 
fully  underlland  what  kind  of  reji  it  is  that  our  bleffed 
Lord  judged  to  be  neceliary  on  the  Jewiih  fabbath,  and 
what  limitations  and  exceptions  to  it  he  admitted ;  from 
whence  we  may  form  fome  judgment  what  our  own  duty 
isonthatholyday  which  we  juftly  call  The  Lord's  Day, 
and  which  mull  be  ccnfidered  as  the  Chriftian  fabbalh. 

From,  this  paffagej  as  v/ell  as  from  many  others,  it  ap* 
pears,  that  the  Jews  had  their  eyes  conftantly  fixed  on  Je- 
lus  and  his  followers,  and  mofl  an:::ioufly  fought  out  for 
opportunities  of  faftening  fome  guilt  upon  them.  It  ap- 
pears alfo  that  they  were  extremely  unfortunate  in  thefe  at- 
tempts, and  compelled  (as  inthe  prefentinftance)  to  have 
recourfe  to  the  filiieil  and  moft  trivial  charges  ;  and  even 
thefe  turned  out  to  be  perfectly  unfounded.  From  whence 
1  think  we  may  fairly  draw  this  inference,  that  the  charac- 
ter and  condu<5l  of  cur  Lord  and  his  difciples  were  per- 
feftly  blamelefsj  fmce  with  all  the  induilry  of  fo  many 
fnarp-fighted  obfer/ers,  fo  extremely  well  difpofed  to  dif- 
cover  guilt  or  to  make  it,  they  could  find  no  real  fault  in 
himc 

The  pretence  on  this  occafion  was,  that  the  difciples, 
by  plucking  a  few  ears  of  corn  and  eating  them  as  they 
pafTed  through  a  corn-field  on  the  fabbath  day,  had  viola- 
ted the  reft  of  that  holy  day,  and  thus  tranfgreffed  the 
^r^olaical  law.  But  to  this  our  Lord  replied,  that  in  cafes 
of  extreme  neceffity  the  feverity  of  that  law  might  be  dif- 
penfed  with  and  relaxed.  As  a  proof  of  this,  he  appeal- 
ed firft  to  the  example  of  David,  the  man  after  God's 
own  heart,  who  (as  may  be  feen  in  1  Samuel,  xxi.  C.) 
v^hen  he  and  his  men  were  reduced  to  great  ftreights  for 
want  of  food,  afked  and  obtained  from  Ahimelech  the 


LECTURED.  151^ 

prlefl  a  part  of  the  confecrated  bread  which  had  been  ta<- 
ken  from  the  altar,  and  which  it  was  not  lawful  for  any 
but  the  priefls  to  eat.  The  other  inftance  he  adduced,  was 
that  of  the  priefts  themfelves,  who  in  the  nece/Tary  fervice 
cf  the  temple  on  the  fabbath-day  were  obliged  to  work 
with  their  own  hands,  by  lighting  the  fires,  killing  the 
vii^Im^,  offering  up  the  facrifices,  &c.  This  in  any  other 
perfons  would  have  been  confidered  as  profanations  of  the  • 
fabbath  ;  but  in  the  priefts  who  were  engaged  in  the  duties 
o£  religion  it  was  not.. 

Thefe  arguments  addrefTed  to  a  Jew  were  in  themfelves 
unanfv/erable  ;  becaufe  they  appealed  to  the  practice  ot 
perfons  whom  the  Jews  held  facred,  and  whofe  conduct 
they  durft  not  condemn.  But  they  went  flill  further  than 
this ;  they  went  to  eitablifn  tliis  general  principle,  that 
there  might  be  obligations  of  a  force  fiiperior  even  to  the 
lav/  of  Mofes,  and  to  which  it  ought  in  certain  cafes  to 
give  way ;  as  in  the  firfl  inftance  to  the  prefTmg  demands 
of  necefhty,  in  the  other  to  the  fervices  of  the  temple. 

If  then  in  thefe  cafes  the  law  might  be  difpenfed  with, 
flill  more  might  it  be  overruled  by  a  power  paramount  to 
every  ether  power,  by  him  who  was  far  greater  and  holier 
than  the  temple  itfelf,  who  was  Lord  even  of  the  fabbath, 
who  was  indeed  fupreme  Lord  over  all,  and  might,  there- 
fore authorize  his  difciples,  in  a  cafe  of  real  urgency,  to 
depart  a  little  from  the  rigor  of  the  fabbatical  reft. 

It  fnould  be  obferved  here,  that  where  St.  Matthew 
fays,  "  the  Son  of  man  is  Lord  even  of  the  fabbath- 
day  ;'*  St.  Mark,  in  the  parallel  place,  expreffes  himfelf 
thus :  "  The  fabbath  was  made  for  man,  and  not  man  for 
the  fabbath."  That  is,  the  fabbath  was  given  to  man  for 
his  benefit,  for  the  improvement  of  his  foul,  as  well  as  for 
the  reft  of  his  body  ;  and  the  latter,  when  neceffary,  muft 
be  facrificed  to  the  former.  For  man  Vvas  not  made  for 
the  fabbath  ;  was  not  made  to  be  a  flave  to  it,  to  be  fo  fer- 
vilely  bound  down  to  the  ftridl  pharifaical  obfervance  of 
it,  as  to  lofe  by  that  rigorous  adherence  to  the  letter,  op- 
portunities of  doing  eiTential  fervice  to  himfelf  and  his 
fellow  creatures. 


252.  LECTURE     X. 

To  this  irrefiftible  force  of  reafoning  cur  blefled  Lor  J 
adds  another  argument  of  confiderable  '.veight :  "  If  ye. 
had  known,  fays  he,  what  this  meaneth,  /  lulll  ha've  mer-^ 
cy,  and  not  facrijice,  ye  v;ould  not  have  condemned  the 
guiltlefs."  The  quotation  is  from  the  prophet  Hofea ; 
the  words  are  fuppofed  to  be  thofe  of  God  himfclf ;  and 
"the  meaning  is,  according  to  a  well-knov/n  Jewidi  idiom, 
I  prefer  mercy  to  facr'tfice  ;  that  is,  when  any  ceremonia' 
inftltution  interferes  v/ith  the  execution  of  any  charitable  or 
pious  defign,  the  former  mufl  give  place  to  the  latter ;  as 
in  the  prefent  inftance,  a  flrift  obfervance  of  the  fabbath. 
muft  not  be  fuffered  to  deprive  my  difciples  of  that  refrefh- 
ment  which  is  necefTary  to  fupport  them  under  the  fatigue 
of  following  me,  and  difpending  to  mankind  the  blefTmgs- 
of  the  gofpel.  We  fee  then  with  what  fuperftitious  rigor 
the  Jews  adhered  to  the  letter  of  their  law  refpecling  the 
Jewifh  fabbath  ;  and  with  what  fuperior  wifdom  and  dlg-^ 
nity  our  Lord  endeavored  to  raife  their  minds  above  fuch 
trivial  things  to  the  true  fpirit  of  it,  to  the  life  and  foul  of 
religion. 

The  fault  however  here  reproved  and  correcled  is  not 
one  into  which  we  of  this  country  are  likely  to  fall,  nor  is 
there  any  need  to  warn  us  againfl:  imitating  the  Jews  in 
this  inftance..  There  is  no  danger  that  we  fhould  carry 
the  obfervance  of  our  fabbath  too  far,  or  that  we  fhould 
be  too  fcrupuloufly  nice  in  avoiding  every  the  minuteft  in- 
fringement of  the  reft  and  fanclity  of  that  holy  day. — 
The  bent  and  tendency  of  the  prefent  times  is  too  evident- 
ly to  a  contrary  extreme,  to  an  excefilve  relaxation  inftead 
of  an  exceffive  ftriftnefs  in  the  regard  Ihewn  to  the  Lord's 
day.  I  am  not  now  fpeaking  of  the  religious  duties  ap- 
.propriated  to  the  Lord's  day,  for  thefe  are  not  now  before 
us,  but  folely  of  the  rejl,  the  repofe  which  it  requires. — 
This  reft  is  plainly  infringed,  whenever  the  lower  claffes 
of  people  continue  their  ordinary  occupaticns  on  the  fab- 
bath, and  whenever  the  higher  em-ploy  their  fervants  and 
their  cattle  on  this  day  in  needlsfs  labor.  This,  however, 
•we  fee  too  frequently  clone,  mere  particularly  hj  fele&ing 
Sunday  as  a  day  for  travellings  for  taking  long  journies^ 
which  might  as  v/ell  be  performed  at  any  ether  time.— 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E     X.  US 

This  is  a  dire^fl  violation  of  the  fourth  commandment, 
"which  exprefsly  gives  the  fabbath  as  a  day  of  reft  to  our 
ferrants  and  our  cattle. 

This  temporary  fufpenfion  of  labor,  this  refrefhment 
and  relief  from  inceffant  toil,  is  moft  gracioufly  allowed 
even  to  the  brute  creation,  by  the  great  Governor  of  the 
univerfe,  whofe  mercy  extends  over  ali  his  works.  It  is 
the  boon  of  heaven  itfel£  It  is  a  fmall  drop  of  comfort 
thrown  into  their  cup  of  mifery  ;  and  to  v/reil  from  them, 
this  only  privilege,  this  fweeteft  corifolation  of  their 
wretched  exiftence,  is  a  degree  of  inhumanity  for  which 
there  wants  a  name  ;  and  of  which  few  people  I  am  per- 
fuaded,  if  tliey  could  be  brought  to  reflecl  ferioufly  upon 
it,  would  ever  be  guilty. 

Thefe  profanations  of  the  fabbath  are  hov/ever  fome- 
times  defended  on  the  ground  of  the  very  pafTage  we  have 
been  juft  confidering.  It  is  alledged,  that  as  our  Lord 
here  reproves  the  Jev/s  for  too  rigorous  an  attention  to  the 
reft  of  the  fabbath,  it  conveys  an  intimation  that  we  ought 
not  to  be  too  exaft  and  fcrupulous  in  tliat  refpeft  ;  and  that 
many  things  may  in  fa6t  be  allowable  which  timid  minds 
may  confider  as  unlawful.  But  it  fhould  be  obferved,  that 
Jefus  condemns  nothing  in  the  condufl:  of  the  Jews  but 
what  was  plainly  abfurd  and  fuperllitious  ;  and  he  allows 
of  no  exceptions  to  that  reft  from  labor  which  they  obferv- 
ed on  the  fabbath,  except  fimply  works  of  necejfity  and 
charity  ;  fuch  for  inftance  as  thofe  very  cafes  which  gave 
occafton  to  tlie  converfation  in  this  chapter  between  Chrift 
and  the  Jews,  that  of  the  difciples  plucking  the  ears  of  com 
en  tlie  fabbath-day  to  fatisfy  their  hunger,  and  that  of  our 
Saviour's  reftoring  the  withered  hand.  It  is  lawful,  in 
fliort,  as  our  Saviour  expreffes  it,  to  do  ivell  on  the  fab- 
bath-day ;  to  preferve  ourlelves,  and  to  benefit  cur  fellow 
creatures.  Thus  far  then  vre  may  go,  but  no  farther.  In 
other  refpe«5ts,  the  reft  of  the  Lord's  day  is  to  be  obferved  ; 
and  thofe  very  exceptions  which  cur  Saviour  makes  are  a 
proof,  that  in  every  other  cafe  he  approves  and  fandions  the 
duty  of  reftirg  on  the  fabbath-day.  It  is  alfo  remarkablej, 
that  ou;-  own  laws,  grounding  them-felves  no  doubt  on  this 
M  2 


l54f  L  E  C  T  U  R  E     X. 

declaration  of  Chrlft,  make  the  fame  exceptions  to  the 
reft  of  the  fabbath  that  he  does  ;  they  allow  works  of  ne- 
ceflSty  and  charity,  but  no  others*.  To  thefe,  therefore, 
we  ought  to  confine  ourfelves  as  nearly  as  may  be  ;  and 
with  thefe  exceptions,  and  thefe  only,  confecrate  the  fab- 
bath as  a  /joly  reft  unto  the  Lord, 

This  reft  tlie  Almighty  enjoined,  not,  as  is  fometimes 
pretended,  to  the  Jews  only,  but  to  all  mankind.  For 
even  immediately  after  the  great  work  of  creation  was 
finifhed,  we  are  told,  "  that  God  ended  his  work  that  he 
had  made,  andherefted  onthefeventh  day  from  all  the  work 
which  he  had  made  ;  and  God  bleffed  the  feventh  day, 
and  fandified  it ;  becaufe  that  in  it  he  had  refted  from  all 
his  work  which  God  created  and  madef ."  It  is  evident, 
therefore,  that  the  feventh  day  was  to  be  a  day  of  reft  to 
oil  manhind,  in  memory  of  God  having  on  that  day  finifii- 
ed  his  great  work  of  creation  ;  and  this  feventh  day,  after 
our  Lord's  refurreftion,  was  changed  by  his  apoftles  to 
ihefrjl  day  of  the  week,  on  which  our  Lord  rofe  from 
tlie  dead,  and  refted  from  his  labors ;  fo  that  the  reft  of 
this  day  is  now  commemorative  of  both  thefe  important 
events,  the  creation  and  the  refurredion. 

I  nov7  proceed  to  confider  the  confequences  of  this  con- 
verfation  between  our  Lord  and  the  Pharifees  on  the  fub^ 
jeft  of  the  fabbath.  One  fliould  have  expeded  that  fo 
wife  and  rational  an  explanation. of  the  lav/  refpeding  that 
day,  releafmg  men  from  the  fenfelefs  feverities  i'mpofed 
npon  them  by  the  fervile  fears  of  fuperftition,  but  at  the 
fame  time  requiring  all  that  refpite  from  labor  which  is  really 
conducive  to  the  glory  of  God  and  the  happinefs  of  man  ; 
one  fhould  have  expefted,  I  fay,  that  fuch  wifdcm  and 
fuch  benevolence  as  this  would  have  triumphed  over  even 
pharifaical  obftinacy,  and  extorted  the  admiration  and  ap- 
plaufe  of  his  hearers.  But  ftubbcrn  prejudices,  and  deep- 
rooted  malignity,  are  not  fo  eafily  fubdued.  For  fee  what 
adually  followed.  "  The  Pharifees  went  out,"  fays  the 
cvangelift,  "  and  held  a  council  how  they  might  deftroy 
him."     Deftroy  him  !  for  what  ?  Why  for  giving  eafe  to 

•  See  the  StatuU  of  49  C.  a,  c,  7.        f  Gen.  li-  2,  5. 


J.  E  C  T  U  R  E    3t.  I5sr 

timid  minds  and  fcrupulous  confciences,  and  for  refloring' 
the  withered  hand  of  a  poor  decrepid  man.     And  were 
thefe  deeds  that  deferved  deftriidion  ?  Would  it  not  rather 
have  been  the  juft  reward  of  thofe  inhuman  wretches  who 
were  capable  of  conceiving  fo  execrable  a  proje6l :  and 
would  not  our  Saviour  have  been  juftified  in  calling  down 
fire  from  heaven,  as  he  eafily  might,  to  confume  tliem  ? 
Eut  his  heart  abhorred  the  thought.     He  purfued  a  direft- 
I7  oppofite  condud  j  and  inftead  of  inflidting  upon  them 
a  punifhment  which  might  have  deftroyed  them,  he  chof-^ 
to  fet  them  an  example  that  might  amend  them.     He 
chofe  to  fhevv'  them  the  difference  between  their  temper 
and  his  own,  between  thofe  malignant  vindi^flive  paffions 
v/hich  governed  them,  and  the  mild,  gentle,  conciliating 
difpofition  which  his  religion  infpired  ;  between  the  fpirifc 
of  the  world,  in  fhoit,  and  the  fpirit  of  the  Gofpel.     He 
withdrew  himfelf  filently  and  quietly  from  them  ;  and 
great  multitudes  followed  him,  and  he  healed  them  all ; 
and,  to  avoid  all  irritation  and  all  conteft,  he   charged 
them  that  they  fliould  not  make  him  known.     "  Thus 
was  fulfilled,"  fays  the  evangelift,  that  which  was  fpoken 
by  Efaias  the  prophet,  faying,  "  Behold  my  fervant  whom 
I  have  chofen  ;  my  beloved,  in  whom  my   foul   is   well 
pleafed.     I  will  put  my  fpirit  upon  him,  and  he  Ihall  fliew 
judgment  to  tlie  Gentiles.     He  fhall  not  ftrive  nor  cry  ; 
neither  fiiall  any  man  hear  his  voice  in  the  flreets.     A 
bruifed  reed  ihall  he  not  break,  and  fmoking  flax  fliall  he 
not  quench,  till  he  fend  forth  judgment  unto   vi'ftory*." 
A  moft  fublime  paffage  ;  which  may  thus  be  paraphrafed. 
Eehold  my  fervant  whom  I  have  chofen,  my  beloved,  in 
whom  my  foul  is  well  pleafed  I   I  will  put  my  fpirit  upon 
him,  and  he  fnall  teach  true  religion,  not  only  to  the  peo- 
ple of  Ifrael,  but  to  the  heathens  alfo  ;  and  this  he  ihall 
do  with  the  utmoft  tendemefs,  mildnefs,  and  meeknefs, 
without  contention  and  noife,  without  tumult  and  dlfturb- 
ance.     A  bruifed  reed  fnall  he  not  break  ;  he  ihall  not 
bear  hard  upon  a  wounded  and  contrite,  and  truly  hum- 
ble and  penitent  heart,  bowed  down  with  a  fenfe  of  its 
infirmities.     And  fmoking  flax  ihall  he  not  quench  ;  die 

*  Ifaiah  xlli.  i — 3. 


ISS  L  E  C  T  U  R  E    X. 

feinteil:  fpark  cf  returning  virtue  he  will  not  extinguifli  by 
feverity ;  but  will  cherilli  and  encourage  the  one,  and  will 
raife  and  animate  and  enliven  the  other  ;  till  by  thefe  gen- 
tle conciliating  means  he  fhall  have  triumphed  over  the 
wickednefs  and  malevolence  of  his  enemies,  and  complete- 
ly eftabliihed  his  religion  throughout  the  world.  What  an 
amiable  pidure  is  here  given  us  of  the  divine  Author  of 
our  faith  !  and  how  exadly  does  this  prophetic  defcription 
correfpond  to  the  whole  tenor  of  his  condu<5l  in  the  propa- 
gation of  his  religion  I 

The  next  remarkable  occurrences  which  prefent  them- 
felves  in  this  chapter  are  thofe  of  our  Saviour  cafting  a 
devil  out  of  a  man  that  was  both  blind  and  dumb  ;  the  r©- 
fiedlions  which  the  Pharifees  threw  upon  him  in  confequence 
of  this  miracle,  and  the  effedual  manner  In  which  he  fi- 
lenced  them,  and  repelled  their  calumny. 

The  paflage  Is  as  follows :  "  Then  was  brought  unto 
him  one  poiTeffed  with  a  devil,  blind  and  dumb,  and  he 
healed  him,  infomuch  that  the  blind  and  dumb  both  fpake 
and  faw.  And  all  the  people  were  amazed,  and  faid,  is 
not  this  the  Son  of  David  ?  But  when  the  Pharifees  heard 
it,  they  faid,  this  fellow  doth  not  caft  out  devils  but  by 
Beelzebub  the  prince  of  the  devils.  And  Jefus  knew  their 
thoughts,  and  faid  unto  them,  every  kingdom  divided 
againft  itfelf  is  brought  to  defolation  ;  and  every  city  or 
houfe  divided  againft  itfelf  fhall  not  ftand.  And  if  Sa- 
tan caft  out  Satan,  he  is  divided  againft  himfelf,  how  fhall 
then  his  kingdom  ftand  ?" 

This  pafTage  affords  room  for  a  variety  of  obfervatlon* 

In  the  firft  place,  It  is  evident  from  this,  as  well  as  from 
many  other  paflages  of  holy  writ,  that  at  the  time  when 
our  Saviour  promulged  his  religion,  there  was  a  calamity 
incident  to  the  human  race,  of  which  at  prefent  we  know 
nothing,  and  that  is,  the  pofTefTion  of  their  bodies  by  evil 
fpirits  or  devils  (as  they  are  ufually  called  in  fcripture) 
which  occafioned  great  torments  to  the  unhappy  fuirerers, 
and  often  deprived  them  both  of  tlieir  fight  and  hearing,, 
as  in  the  prefent  inftance.     Such  poffeffions  having  long 


X.  E  C  T  U  R  E    X.  157 

fmce  ceafed,  they  have  appeared  to  feveral  learned  men  fo 
incredible,  that  they  have  been  led  to  deny  that  they  ever 
exifted,  and  to  maintain  that  they  were  only  difeafes  of  a 
violent  and  terrifying  nature,  attended  v.'ith  convulfive  or 
epileptic  fits  ;  that  this  fort  of  difeafe  was  afcribed  by  the 
Jews  to  the  operation  of  evil  fpirits ;  and  that  our  Saviour, 
in  compliance  with  their  prejudices,  treated  them  as  cafes 
of  real  pofleffion,  and  pretended  to  caft  out  devils,  when 
in  fad,  he  only  cured  the  diforder  with  which  the  patient 
was  afHided. 

This  opinion  is  fupported  by  great  names  ;  but  howev- 
er great  and  refpe<5table  they  may  be  it  appears  to  me 
utterly  indefenfible. 

Every  expreffion  that  our  Lord  makes  ufe  of  with  ref- 
ped  to  thefe  demoniacs  plainly  fuppofes  them  to  be  really 
poffeiTed  ;  and  it  is  not  eafy  to  affign  any  admiffible  reafon 
why  he  fhould  treat  them  as  fuch,  if  they  were  not  fo, 
and  why  he  fhould  not  corred  inftead  of  countenancing 
fo  grofs  an  error  ;  as  fuch  a  condud  could  anfwer  no  one 
good  purpofe,  and  feems  hard  to  reconcile  with  his  own 
uniform  faimefs  and  fmcerlty  of  mind.  To  have  done  it 
to  magnify  his  own  power  in  calling  out  the  evil  fpirits* 
would  haveheen,  to  all  appearance,  a  very  needlefs  expe- 
dient ;  becaufe  the  immediate  removal  of  a  natural  dif- 
eafe (if  it  was  one)  would  have  been  an  equal  proof  of 
his  divine  power.  But  befides  this,  there  is  every  where 
a  plain  diftindion  made  between  common  difeafes  and  de- 
moniacal poffeffions  ;  which  fhews  that  they  were  totally 
different  things.  In  the  fourth  chapter  of  this  Gofpei, 
where  the  very  firft  mention  is  made  of  thefe  pofTeffions, 
it  is  faid,  that  our  Lord's  fame  went  throughout  all  Syria, 
and  they  brought  unto  him  all  fick  people  that  were  taken 
with  divers  dileafes  and  torments,  and  thofe  vdiich  were 
poffeiTed  with  devils,  and  he  healed  them.  Here  you  fee 
thofe  that  were  taken  with  divers  difeafes  and  torments, 
and  thofe  poffeffed  with  devils,  are  mentioned  as  diflinft 
and  feparate  perfons  ;  a  plain  proof  that  the  demoniacal 
poffeffions  were  not  natural  difeafes  ;  and  the  very  fame 
diftindion  is  niade  in  feveral  other  paiTages  of  holy  writ. 


us  LECTURE     X. 

There  can  be  no  doubt,  therefore,  that  the  demoniacs 
were  perfons  really  pofTeffed  with  evil  fpirits  ;  and  although 
it  may  ieem  ftrange  to  us,  yet  we  find  from  Jofephus,  and 
other  hiftorians,  that  it  was  in  thofe  times  no  uncommon 
cafe.       In   fa(5l,  it  appears  that  about  the  time  of    our 
Lord's  miniftry,  that  tremendous  fpirit,  Satan,  or,  as  he 
is  fometimes  called  in  fcripture,  the  Prince  of  this  world, 
had  obtained  an  extraordinary  degree  of  power  over  the 
human  race,  infliding  upon  them  the  cruelleft  pains  and 
torments,  depriving  them  of  their  fenfes,  rendering  them 
wretched  in  themfelves,  and  terrible  to  all  around  them. 
To  fubdue  this  formidable  and  wicked  being,  and  to  de» 
llroy  him  that  had  the  power  of  death,  that  is,  the  devil, 
was  one  great  objedl  of  our  Saviour's  divine  miffion  ;  and 
it  feems  to  have  been  indifpenfably  necelTa-ry  for  accom- 
plifhing  the  redemption  of  mankind,  that  the  kingdom  of 
Satan  fhould  in  the  firft  place  be  deftroyed,  and  that  the 
fons  of  men  ihould  be  refcued  from  that  horrible  and  dif- 
graceful  ftate  of  fiavery  in  which  he  had  long  held  them 
enthralled.      One  of  the  firft   fteps,  therefore,   that  our 
Lord  took  before  he  entered  on  his  miniftry  was,  to  eftab- 
lifh  his  fuperiority  over  this  great  enemy  of  mankind : 
which  he  did  in  that  memorable  fcene  of  the  temptation 
m  the  wildemefs  ;  and  among  the  earlieft  of  his  miracles 
recorded,  is  that  of  cafting  out  devils  from  thofe  who 
were  polTed  by  them.     And  perhaps  one  reafon  why  thefe 
poiTeffions  were  permitted,  might  be  to  aiford  our  Lord 
an  opportunity  of  giving  the  Jew^s  a  vifible  and  ocular 
demonftration  of  his  decided  fuperiority  and  fovereignty 
over  the  prince  of  the  devils,  and  all  his  agents,  and  of 
his  power  to  fubdue  this  great  adverfary  of  the  human 
fpecies.     He  appears  indeed  to  have  been  in  a  ftate  of 
conflant  hoftility  and  warfare  with  this  wicked  fpirit  j  and 
in  this  very  paffage  Satan  is  defcribed  by  our  Saviour  un- 
der the  image  of  ajirong  man,  whom  it  was  necelTary  io 
hind  before  you  could  fpcil  his  houfe,  and  exterminate  him 
and  his  coadjutors,  as  Jefus  was  then  doing.     Yet  fo  little 
y/cre  the  Jews  fenfible  of  this  enmJty  between  ChriH  and 
Beelzebub,  that  on  the  contrary  they  charged  them  v/ith 
being  friends  and  confederates.     They  faid,  "  This  fellow 
doth  not  caft  out  devils  but  by  Beelzebub  the  prince  of  the 


JL  E  C  T  U  R  E     X.  159 

devils.^'  The  anfwer  of  our  Lord  to  this  was  decifive 
and  fatisfactory  to  every  reafonable  mind.  "  Every  king- 
dom divided  againft  itfelf  is  brought  to  defolation  ;  and 
every  city  or  houfe  devided  againft  itfelf  fhall  not  ftand. 
And  if  Satan  cad  out  Satan,  he  is  divided  againft  himfelf, 
how  fhall  then  his  kingdom  ftand  ?"  His  argument  is  this  ; 
Hov/  abfurd  and  prepofterous  is  it  to  fuppofe  that  Satan 
will  act  againft  himfelf,  by  expelling  his  owti  minifters 
and  agents  whom  he  has  fent  to  take  poffefficn  of  the 
minds  and  bodies  of  men,  and  by  afllfting  me  to  eftablifti 
my  religion,  and  thereby  diffafe  virtue  and  happinefs 
throughout  the  world,  which  it  is  his  great  objedt  to  de- 
ftroy,  and  to  introduce  vice  and  mifery  in  their  room. 
This  muft  clearly  end  in  his  ruin,  and  the  overthrow  of 
his  em.pire  over  mankind.  It  is  evident  then  that  it  is 
not  by  his  affiftance,  but  by  the  power  of  God,  that  I 
caft  out  devils  ;  and  if  fo,  it  is  clear  to  demonftration 
that  I  am  commifHoned  by  heaven  to  teach  true  religion 
to  mankind. 

I  cannot  quit  this  fubje6t  of  miracles  v/ithout  obferving, 
what  a  remarkable  difference  there  is  between  the  fenti- 
ments  of  modem  infidels  and  thofe  of  the  iirft  enemies  of 
the  Gofpel  refpeding  tlie  miracles  of  Chrift.  The  form.er 
affert,  that  our  Saviour  wrought  no  real  miracles  :  that 
miracles  are  in  their  own  nature  incredible  and  impoftible  ; 
and  that  no  human  teftimony  whatever  can  give  credit  to 
events  fo  contrary  to  experience,  and  fo  repugnant  to  the 
ordinary  courfe  of  nature.  But  go  to  thofe  unbelievers 
who  Hved  in  the  earlieft  ages  of  the  Gofpel,  and  even  to 
thofe  who  were  eye-wItnelTes  to  our  Lord*s  miracles,  and 
they  will  tell  you  a  very  different  ftory.  They  affert,  that 
Jefus //iJ work  miracles;  they  acknowledge  that  he  did 
expel  evil  fpirits  out  of  tliofe  that  were  pofieffed.  They 
afcrlbed  the  miracle  indeed  to  the  pov/er  of  Beelzebub, 
not  of  God.  But  this  we  know  to  be  abfardity  and  non- 
fenfe.  The  fa^fi  of  the  miraculous  cure  they  did  not  dif- 
pute ;  and  this  at  once  eftabliihes  the  divine  million  of  our 
Lord.  To  which  then  of  thefe  two  defcriptions  of  infi- 
dels fliall  we  give  moft  credit,  to  thofe  who  lived  near 
eighteen  hundred  years  after  the  xraracles  v/ere  peiform- 


16Q  L  E  C  T  U  R  E     X. 

€d,  or  to  thofe  who  faw  them  wrought  with  their  own 
eyes  :  and  though  they  deteiled  the  author  of  them,  ad- 
mitted the  reality  of  his  wonderful  works  ? 

•  Our  Lord  then,  continuing  his  converfation  with  the 
Pharifees,  addreffes  to  them,  in  the  31ft  verfe,  thefe  re- 
markable words : 

"  "Wherefore  I  fay  unto  you,  all  manner  of  fin  and 
blafphemy  fhall  be  forgiven  unto  men  ;  but  the  blafphemy 
againft  the  Holy  Ghofh  fliall  not  be  forgiven  unto  men. 
And  whofoever  fpeaketh  a  word  againft  the  Son  of  man, 
it  fhall  be  forgiven  him  ;  but  whofoever  fpeaketh  againft 
the  Holy  Ghoft,  it  fhall  not  be  forgiven  him,  neither  in 
this  world,  neitlier  in  the  world  to  come." 

Our  Lord's  meaning  In  this  obfcure  and  alarming  paf. 
fage  feems  to  be  this  ;  there  is  no  other  fm  or  blafphemy 
which  argues  fuch  a  total  depravation  of  mind,  but  that 
it  may  be  repented  of  and  forgiven.  Even  he  that  fpeaks 
againfc  me,  the  Son  of  God,  and  is  not  convinced  by  my 
preaching,  may  yet  be  afterwards  converted  by  the  power 
of  the  Holy  Ghoft,  by  the  miracles  which  he  enables  me 
and  my  difciples  to  work,  and  may  obtain  remiffion  of  his 
fm.  But  he  that  fhall  obftinately  refift  this  laft  method  of 
conviftion  (that  of  miracles  wrought  before  his  eyes)  and 
fhall  malicioully  revile  thefe  moft  evident  operations  of  the 
Cplrit  of  God,  contrary  to  the  reafon  of  his  own  mind  and 
the  di<ftates  of  his  own  confcience,  fuch  an  one  has  no  fur- 
ther means  left  by  which  he  may  be  convinced  and  brought 
to  repentance,  and  therefore  can  never  be  forgiven. 

From  this  interpretation,  which  is,  I  believe,  generally 
admitted  to  be  the  true  one,  it  appears  that  there  is  no 
juft  ground  for  the  apprehenfions  fometimes  entertained 
by  pious  and  fcrupulous  minds,  that  they  may  themfehss 
be  guilty  of  the  fm  here  declared  to  be  unpardonable,  tlie 
fm  againft  the  Holy  Ghoft  ;  for  we  fee  that  it  is  confined 
folely  and  excliifively  to  the  cafe  before  us,  that  is  to  the 
^rime  of  which  the  Pharifees  had  juft  been  guilty,  the  crime 
of  attributing  thofe  miracles  to  the  agency  of  evil  fpirits, 
which  were  plainly  wrought  by  the  fpirit  of  God,  and 
which  they  faw  with  their  own  eyes. 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E    X.  ISI 

What  confirms  this  interpretation  is,  that  this  crime  is 
here  called,  not  as  isgenerallv  fuppofed,  the  Jin  againft  the 
Holy  Ghoft,  but  hlajphemy  againft  the  Holy  Ghoft,  which 
evidently  refers  not  to  uS'ions  but  to  'words ;  not  to  any 
thing  done  but  to  fomething  /aid  againft  the  Holy  Ghoft- 
This  being  the  cafe,  it  is  clear  that  as  miracles  have  long 
fmce  ceafed,  and  this  blafphemy  againft  tbe  Holy  Ghoft 
relates  folely  to  thofe  who  faw  miracles  performed  with 
their  own  eyes,  it  is  impoflible  for  any  one  in  tiiefe  times 
to  be  literally  guilty  of  this  impious  and  unpardonable 
kind  of  blafphemy  in  its  full  extent. 

Our  Lord  then  addrefTes  himfelf  more  directly  to  tlie 
authors  of  this  fpiteful  calumny  :  "  Either  make  the  tree- 
good  and  his  fruit  good,  or  elfe  make  the  tree  corrupt  and 
his  fruit  corrupt ;  for  the  tree  is  known  by  its  fruit ;"  that 
is,  be  unifoi-m  and  confiftent  with  yourfelves.  If  you  pre- 
tend to  hoHnefs  and  fmcerity  of  heart,  fuffer  not  your 
mouths  to  utter  thefe  blafphemies ;  or  if  you  perfift  in 
fuch  behavior,  lay  afide  all  claim  to  religion,  with  which 
this  obftinate  malice  is  as  inconfiftent,  as  it  is  for  a  tree 
not  to  difcover  its  nature  by  the  quality  of  the  fruit  it  pro- 
duces. "  He  then  adds,  "  O  generation  of  vipers,  how 
can  ye,  being  evil,  fpeak  good  tilings  ;  for  out  of  the 
abundance  of  the  heart  the  mouth  fpeaketli.  A  good 
man,  out  of  the  good  treafure  of  his  heart,  bringeth  forth 
good  things ;  and  an  evil  man,  out  of  the  evil  treasure 
of  his  heart,  bringeth  forth  evil  things."  The  import  of 
which  words  is  this  :  But  it  is  impoflible  that  yoti  fhould 
fpeak  otherwife  than  evil.  You  are  a  perverfe  and  mali- 
cious generation,  and  the  thoughts  of  men's  hearts  will 
of  courfe  ftiew  themfelves  by  their  words.  They  arife 
immediately  from  the  fund  within,  and  will  neceffarily* 
-difcover  whether  it  be  good  or  bad. 

Then  follows  anotlier  very  remarkable  declaration  of 
our  Lord's  in  the  36th  verfe  %  *^  I  fay  unto  you,  that  eve- 
ry idle  word  that  men  ftiall  fpeak,  they  ihall  give  account 
thereof  in  the  day  of  judgment."  From  hence  fome  have 
imagined,  that  at  the  day  of  judgment  we  ftiall  be  called 
""•o  an  account;  and  punijQied  for  everv  idle  and  unrrc£ta- 

N 


162  LECTURE     X- 

ble,  every  triHing  and  ludicrous  word  that  we  have  eve/ 
uttered  in  the  gaiety  of  the  heart  during  the  whole  courle 
of  our  lives.  I£  this  be  the  cafe,  how  hard  is  it,  will  the 
enemies  of  the  Gcfpel  fay,  in  the  Author  of  your  religion, 
to  exact  from  you  what  is  utterly  inconfiftent  with  the  in- 
firmities of  human  nature,  and  which  mull  completely 
deftroy  all  the  freedom,  all  the  eafe,  all  the  cheerfulnefs, 
nil  tke-'comforts  of  focial  converfe,  and  render  it  neceflary 
ibr  every  man  that  hopes  to  be  faved  to  feclude  himfelf 
from  fcciety,  and  like  the  once  celebrated  fathers  of  the 
order  of  La  Tr.ippe,  impofe  upon  themfelves  an  everlaft- 
ing  filence  !  That  this  mull  be  the  confequence  of  the  fen- 
tence  here  pronounced  by  our  Lord,  if  it  is  to  be  under-» 
ftood  in  that  ftrift,  literal,  and  rigorous  fenfe  which  has 
juft  been  dated,  and  which  at  the  firft  view  the  words  feem 
to  import,  cannot  be  denied  ;  and  therefore  we  may  fair- 
ly conclude,  that  it  is  not  the  true  meaning  of  the  pafiage 
in  queftion  ;  becaufe  we  knov;  that  we  do  not  ferve  a  hard 
mafter,  Vv^ho  requires  more  from  us  than  our  ftrength  will 
bear  ;  but  one  vv'ho  can  be  touched  with  the  feeling  of  oar 
infirmities,  and  who  has  declared,  that  "  h:s  yoke  is  eafy, 
and  his  burthen  light.'' 

In  order  then  to  fet  this  text  of  fcripture  in  Its  true  light, 
we  muft  look  back  to  what  had  juft  palTed  ;  we  muft  re- 
member that  the  Pharifees  had  a  little  before  reproached 
cur  Lord  Vv'idi  having  caft  out  devils  through  Beelzebub 
the  prince  of  tb.e  devils  y  and  it  is  this  calumny  that  he  al- 
ludes to  in  the  words  before  us ;  for  they  d.te  a  continua- 
tion of  that  very  fame  converfation  which  he  was  holding 
with  the  Jews.,  Now  the  words  made  ufe  of  by  the 
Pharifees  in  the  above  mentioned  charge  are  not  merely 
idle,  or  fooliih,  or  trifling  v/ords,  they  are  in  the  higheft 
degree  malevolent,  falfe,  and  v/i eked  ;  they  conftitute  one 
of  the  groffeil:,  moft  deteftable,  and  micft  infamous  calum- 
nies that  ever  was  uttered  by  man.  Confequently  by  id/e 
v/ords  our  Saviour  plainly  meant,  falfe,  lying,  and  mali- 
cious words,  fuch  as  thofe  which  the  Pharifees  had  a  few 
minutes  before  applied  to  him. 

In  confirmation  of  this  it  (hould  be  obferved,  that  tlie 
language  then  fpoken  by  the  Jews  was  not  their  primitive 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E     X.  163 

tongue,  but  one  mixed  and  made  up  of  the  diale<5l3  and 
idioms  of  the  feveral  nations  that  furrounded  them,  par- 
ticularly of  the  Chaldeans,  Syrians,  and  Arabians.  In 
this  our  Saviour  delivered  all  his  inftruftions,  and  held  all 
his  difcourfes.  In  this  (as  fome  learned  men  think)  St. 
Matthew  originally  wrote  his  Gofpei  for  the  ufe  of  the 
Jev^ifn  converts  :  and  it  has  been  remarked,  that  in  almoft 
ail  the  languages  of  which  this  mifcellaneous  one  is  made 
up,  by  idle  or  unprofitable  words  are  meant,  falfe,  lying, 
malicious,  and  fcandulous  calumnies. 

But  though  in  the  pafTage  before  us  the  phrafe  of  i<IIe 
nvords  refers  more  immediately  to  the  malignant  calumny 
of  the  Pharifees  againft  Jefiis  ;  yet  it  certainly  includes  all 
falfe,  flanderous,  and  vindidive  accufations  of  our  neigh- 
bor ;  all  difcourfe  which  is  in  any  refpedl  injurious  to  God 
or  man,  which  is  contrary  to  truth,  to  decency,  and  evan- 
gelical purity  of  heart.  All  converfation  of  this  fort  is 
plainly  inconfiftent  with  the  fan^flity  of  our  religion,  and 
mud  of  courfe  fubjeft  us  to  God's  difpleafure  here,  and 
his  judgments  hereafter.  And  even  in  the  literal  and 
moft  obvious  fenfe  of  idle  ivords,  though  we  are  not  ex- 
cluded from  the  innocent  cheerfulnefs  of  focial  converfc> 
yet  we  mufl  beware  of  giving  way  too  much  to  trifling, 
foolifh,  unprofitable  and  unmeaning  talk.  Even  tbiSjv 
when  carried  to  excefs,  becomes  in  fome  degree  criminal ; 
it  produces,  or  at  leaft  increafes  a  frivolous  turn  of  mind  ; 
unfits  us  for  the  difcharge  of  any  thing  manly  and  ferious  ; 
and  indicates  a  degree  of  levity  and  thoughtlefiiiefs  not 
very  confident  with  a  juft  fenfe  of  thofe  important  inter- 
efts,  which  as  candidates  for  heaven  we  fliould  have  con- 
ftantly  prefent  to  our  thoughts,  nor  fuitable  to  thofe  awfal 
profpeds  into  eternity  w^hich  the  Chriftian  revelation  opens 
to  our  view,  and  which  ought  to  make  the  moft  ferious 
impreffions  on  every  fmcere  believer  in  the  Gofpei  of 
Chrift. 


,.<..<..<..<..<,.<..<..<..<,.<..<..<-<-<"4-<  •<••<••<•■<••<••<>••>■  >■>•>••>•>■•>•■>■>••>••>•  >••>••>■>•• 


LECTURE     XI. 


MATTHEW  xill. 


w. 


E  are  now  arrived  at  the  thirteenth  chap- 
ter of  Su  Matthew,  in  which  our  blefTed  Lord  introduces 
a  new  mode  of  conveying  his  inftru<Sions  to  the  people. 
Hitherto  he  had  confined  himfelf  entirely  to  the  plain  di- 
dadic  method,  of  which  his  fermon  on  the  mount  is  a. 
large  and  noble  fpecimen.  But  his  difcourfes  now  affume 
a  different  fhape,  and  he  begins  in  this  chapter,  for  the 
£r{l  time,  to  addrefs  his  hearers  in  parables.  "  The  fame 
day,  fays  the  evangelift,  v/ent  Jefus  out  of  the  houfe,  and 
fat  by  the  fea-fide  ;  and  great  multitudes  were  gathered 
together  unto  him,  fo  that  he  went  into  a  fhip  and  fate : 
2.nd  the  whole  multitude  flood  on  the  fhore,  and  he  fpake 
many  things  unto  them  in  parablesJ** 

The  word  parable  fs  fometimes  ufed  In  fcripture  In  a 
large  and  general  fenfe,  and  applied  to  lliort  fententious 
fayings,  maxims,  or  aphorifms,  expreffed  in  a  figurative, 
proverbial,  or  even  poetical  manner. 

But  in  its  ftn<5t  and  appropriate  meaning,  efpecially  as 
applied  to  our  Saviour's  parables,  it  fignifies  a  fhort  narra- 
tive of  fome  event  or  fa(S,  real  or  fictitious,  In  v;hich  a 
continued  comparifon  is  carried  on  between  fenfible  and 
fpiritual  objeds  j  and  under  this  fimilitude  fome  impor- 
tant dodlrine,  moral  or  religious,  is  conveyed  and  en* 
forced. 

This  mode  of  Inflruftion  has  many  advantages  over  ev- 
ery other,  more  particularly  in  recommending  virtue,  or 
reproving  vice. 

1.  In  the  firft  place,  when  divine  and  fpiritual  things 
are  reprefented  by  obje<fls  well  known  and  familiar  to  us. 


UG  LECTURE     XL 

flich  n.s  picfent  thcmfelvcs  perpetually  to  cur  obfervation, 
in  the  common  occurrerxes  ot  life,  they  are  much  more 
eafily  comprehend'.ed,  efpecially  by  rude  and  uncuitivated 
minds  (that  is,  by  the  great  bulk  of  mankind)  than  if 
they  were  propoled  in  their  original  form. 

2.  In  all  ages  of  the  world  there  h  nothing  with  which 
mankind  hath  been  fo  much  delighted  as  with  thofe  little 
fictitious  ftories,  which  go  under  il-2  name  of  fables  or 
apologues  among  the  ancient  heathens,  and  of  parables 
in  the  facred  writings.  It  is  found  by  experience,  that  this 
fort  of  compofition  is  better  calculated  to  com.m.and  atten- 
tion, to  captivate  the  imagination,  to  aff^ft  the  heart,  and 
to  make  deeper  and  more  lading  impreffions  on  the  miemo- 
ry,  than  the  moft  ingenious  and  moil  elegant  difcourfes 
that  the  wit  of  man  is  capable  of  producing. 

3.  The  very  obfcurity  in  which  parables  are  fometimes 
involved,  has  the  effeft  of  exciting  a  greater  degree  of 
curiofity  and  intereft,  and  of  urging  the  mind  to  a  more 
vigorous  exertion  of  its  faculties  and  powers,  tlian  any 
other  mode  of  inftrudlion.  There  is  fomething  for  the  un- 
derjRianding  to  work  upon  ;  and  when  the  concealed  rnean- 
ing.  is  at  length  elicited,  we  are  apt  to  value  ourfelves  on 
the  difcovery  as  the  effe*5t  of  our  own  penetration  arid  dif- 
cernment,  and  for  that  very  rcafon  to  pay  more  regard  to 
the  moral  it  conveys. 

4.  When  the  mind  is  under  the  influence  of  ftrong  pre- 
judices, of  violent  paffions,  or  inveterate  habits,  and  when 
under  thefe  circumftances  it  becomes  necefl'ary  to  rcdlify 
error,  to  diffipate  delufion,  to  reprove  fm,  and  bring  the 
offender  to  a  fenfe  of  his  danger  and  his  guilt ;  there  is  no 
way  in  v/hich  this  difHcult  tafk.  can  be  fo  well  executed, 
and  the  painful  truths  that  mu/i  be  told  fo  fuccefsfully  in- 
fmuated  into  the  mind,  as  by  difguifmg  them  under  the 
veil  of  a  well-wrought  and  intereiting  parable. 

This  obfervation  cannot  be  better  illuftrated  than  by 
referring  to  two  parables,  one  in  the  New  Teflament,  the 
other  in  the  Old,  which  will  amply  confirm  the  truth, 
and  unfold  the  meaning  of  the  preceding  remarks. 


LECTURE     XL  167 

The  £rit  of  thefe  \vhich   I  allude  to  is  the  celebrated 
parable  of  the  good  Samaritan. 

The  Jews,  as  we  learn  from  our  Lord  himfelf,  had  ef^ 
tablifhed  it  as  a  maxim  that  they  were  to  love  their  neigh- 
bor and  to  hate  their  enemy* ;  and  as  they  confidered 
none  as  their  neighbors  but  their  own  countrymen  ;  the 
confequence  was,  that  they  imagined  themfelves  at  liberty 
to  hate  all  the  reft  of  the  world  ;  a  liberty  which  they  in- 
dulged without  referve,  and  againft  none  with  more  bit- 
teniefs  than  the  contiguous  nation  of  the  Samaritans. 
When,  therefore,  the  lawyer  in  the  Gofpel.  afked  cur 
Lord,  who  was  his  neighbor  ?  had  Chrift  attempted  to 
prove  to  him  by  argument  that  lie  was  to  confider  all  man- 
kind, even  his  enemies,  even  the  Samaritans,  as  his  neigh- 
bors, the  lawyer  would  have  treated  his  anfwer  \^'ith  con- 
tempt and  difdain  ;  all  his  native  prejudices  and  abfurd 
traditions  would  have  rifen  up  in  arms  againlr  fo  offenfive 
a  doftrine  ;  nor  would  all  the  eloquence  in  the  world,  not 
even  the  divine  eloquence  of  the  Son  of  God  himfelf,  have 
been  able  to  fubdue  the  deep-rooted  prepofTeffions  of  the 
obftinate  Jew. 

Jcfas  therefore,  well  knowing  the  impoflibility  of  con- 
vincing the  lawyer  by  any  thing  he  could  fay,  determined 
to  make  the  man  convince  himfelf,  and  ccrreft  his  ow;i 
error.  With  this  view  he  relates  to  him  the  parable  of 
the  Jewifli  traveller,  who  fell  among  robbers,  was  ftripped 
a.nd  .  wounded,  and  left  half  dead  upon  the  fpot ;  and 
though  pafled  by  with  unfeeling  indiiference  and  negleft 
by  his  own  countrymen,  was  at  length  relieved  and  reilior- 
ed  to  health  by  a  compaflionate  Samaritan.  He  theii 
aflcs  tlie  lawyer,  vrho  was  neighbor  to  this  diftreffed  trav- 
eller ?  It  was  impofublc  for  the  lawyer  not  to  anfwer,  sis 
he  did  (not  forefeeing  the  confequence)  He  that  jhoiued 
Tiiercy  to  him ;  that  is,  the  Samaritan.  Here  then  he  at 
once  cut  up  his  own  abfurd  opinion  by  the  roots.  For  if 
the  Samaritans,  whom  of  all  others  the  Jev/s  mod  hated, 
were,  in  the  true  and  fubftantial  fenfe  of  the  word,  their 
neighbors f  they  were  bound  by  their  own  law,  by  their  own 

*  Matth.  V,  43. 


168  I.  E  C  T  -U  R  E     XI. 

trs-ditions,  and  by  this  man's  own  confeffion,  to  lore  and 
r.o  alTiil  them  as  fucK  The  coRclufion  was  therefore,  Go 
and  do  thx)u  lihewife^ 

This  then  affords  a  ftriking  proof  of  the  efficacy  of 
parable  in  cGrre<5ting  ftrong  prejudices  and  erroneous  opin- 
ions. Eut  there  is  another  thing  ftill  more  difficult  to  be 
fubdued,  and  that  is,  inveterate  wickednefs  and  hardened 
guilt.  But  this  too  was  made  to  give  way  and  humble  it- 
felC  in  the  duft  by  the  force  of  parable.  I  mean  that  of 
Kathan* 

There  feems  reafon  to  believe  that  King  David,  after  he 
had  committed  the  complicated  crime  of  adultery  and 
nurder,  had  by  fome  means  or  other  contrived  to  lull  his 
confcience  to  fleep,  and  to  fupprefs  the  rifmgs  of  any 
painful  refle<5tion  in  his  mind.  This  appears  alm.oft  in-, 
credible,  yet  fo  the  fad  feems  to  have  been  ;  and  it  ftiews 
in  the  ftrongeft  light  the  extreme  deceitfulnefs  of  fm,  its 
aflonifhing  power  over  the  mind  of  man,  and  the  inveter- 
ate  depravity  of  the  human  heart.  When  we  fee  a  man- 
who  had  perpetrated  fuch  atrocious  deeds,  totally  infenfi- 
ble  of  his  guilt,  and  not  difcovering  the  flighteil  refem- 
blance  to  his  own  cafe  in  the  affedting  and  awakening  ftory 
which  the  prophet  related,  it  affords  a  ftriking  and  a  mel- 
ancholy proof  what  human  nature  is  when  left  to  itfelf 
even  in  the  befl  of  men  ;  even  in  thofe  who,  like  King 
David,  arCj  in  the  general  tenor  of  their  life,  adluated  by 
right  principles,  and  even  animated  (as  he  evidently  was) 
-vith  the  v/armeft  fentiments  of  piety  and  devotion.  And 
it  demonftrates  in  the  clearefi  manner  the  abfolute  neceffi- 
ty  of  that  help  from  above  in  the  difcharge  of  our  duty, 
which  the  Chriftian  revelation  holds  out  to  us,  and  which 
men  of  the  world  are  fo  apt  to  defpife  and  deride  as  a 
weak  delufion  and  fanatical  imagination  ;  I  mean  the  di- 
vine influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit  %  v/itliont  which  there 
is  not  a  fmgle  individual  here  prefent.,  however  highly  he 
may  think  of  the  natural  redtitude  and  invincible  integrity 
of  his  own  mind,  who  may  not  in  an  evil  hcnir,  when  he 
lead  thinks  of  it,  be  betrayed  by  fome  po^verful  and  uner- 
pefted  temptation  into  as  much  guik,    and  bcccmo  as 


L  h  C  V  U  R  E     XL  t6^ 

blind  to  his  own  fituation,  as  was  that  unhappy  prince  of 

whom  we  are  now  fpeaklng* 

It  was  indifpenfably  neceflary  to  roufe  the  finner  out  of 
this  dreadful  lethargy ;  but  how  was  this  to  be  done  ?— « 
Kad  Nathan  plainly  and  direftly  charged  him  with  all  the 
enormity  of  his  guilt,  the  probability  is,  that  either  in  the 
firft  tranfport  of  his  refentment  he  would  have  driven  the 
prophet  from  his  prefence,  or  that  he  would  have  attempt- 
ed to  palliate,  to  foften,  to  explain  away  his  crime  ;  would 
have  pleaded  the  firength  of  his  paffion  or  the  violence  of 
the  temptation,  and  perhaps  claimed  fome  indulgence  of 
his  rank  and  fituation  in  life.  But  all  thefe  pleas  were  at 
once  fdeneed,  and  his  retreat  completely  cut  off,  by  mak- 
ing him  the  judge  of  his  own  cafe,  and  ft.Tcing  his  com 
denmation  out  of  his  ovm  mouth.  For  after  he  had  de- 
nounced death  on  the  rich  man  for  taking  away  the  ewe 
lamb  of  the  poor  one,  he  could  with  no  decency  pretend 
that  he  who  had  deftroyed  the  life  of  one  fellow-creature^ 
and  the  innocence  of  another,  was  deferving  of  a  milder 
fentence. 

There  was  nothing  then  left  for  him  but  to  eonfefs  at 
once,  as  he  did,  "  that  he  had  fmned  againft  ^e  Lord  ;" 
and  his  penitence  we  know  was  as  fevere  and  exemplary  as 
his  crime  Lad  been  atrocious. 

It  is  much  to  be  lamented  that  thefe  indirect  methods 
fKculd  be  found  neceffary,  in  order  to  fliow  men  to  them- 
(elves,  and  acquaint  them  with  their  real  chara(5ters,  ef- 
pecially  when  it  Is  their  own  intereft  not  to  be  miftaken  in 
lb  important  a  concern.  But  the  wife  and  the  virtuous  in 
every  age  have  condefcended  to  make  ufe  of  this  innocent 
artifice  ;  the  neceffity  of  v\diich  is  founded  in  the  fad  cor^ 
Tuption  of  human  nature,  and  In  that  grofs  and  deplora-^ 
ble  blindnefs  to  their  own  fais  and  follies,  which  is  obfejv- 
able  in  fo  large  a  part  of  mankind.  They  engage  with 
warmth  and  eagenieis  in  vrorldly  purfuits,  Vv^hich  employ 
their  attention  and  excite  tlieir  pafiions  ;  fo  that  they  have 
little  time,  and  leis  Inc>ii»a>tIon,  to  refled:  calmly  and  feri- 
oully  on  their  c  vvn  condutfl:,  In  a  moral  and  religious  point 
0^  view.  But  if  tlieir  thoughts  are  at  any  time  forced  in- 
N  a 


170  Lecture   xl 

wards,  and  they  cannot  help  taking  a  view  of  themfelves, 
a  deeper  fource  of  delufion  is  ftill  behind.  The  fame 
actions  which,  when  committed  by  others,  are  immediate- 
ly difcenied  to  be  wrong,  are  palhated,  explained,  quali- 
fied, and  apologized  away,  when  we  happen  to  be  guilty 
of  them  ourfelves.  The  circnmftances  in  the  two  cafes 
are  difcovered  to  be  perfeftly  different  in  fome  eifential 
points ;  our  pailions  were  ungovernable,  the  temptation 
irrefiftible.  In  fnort,  fomehow  or  other,  all  guilt  vanifh- 
es  away  under  the  management  of  tlie  dextrous  cafuift^ 
and  the  intrufion  of  felf-condemnation  is  efFedhially  pre- 
cluded. 

Still  there  remains,  It  may  be  faid,  the  admonition  of 
fome  zealous  friend  or  faithful  inftruftor  ;  but  zeal  is  gen- 
erally vehement,  and  often  indifcreet.  By  exciting  the 
refentment,  and  inflaming  the  anger  of  thofe  it  means  to 
reform,  it  frequently  defeats  its  own  defigns.  For  who- 
ever is  offended  inftantly  forgets  his  own  faults,  and  dwells 
v/holly  upon  thofe  of  his  imprudent  monitor.  But  when 
the  veil  of  parable  conceals  for  a  moment  from  the  offend- 
er that  he  is  himfelf  concerned  in  it,  he  may  ,2;enerally  be 
furprized  into  a  condemnation  of  every  one  that  is  guilty 
of  a  bafe  difhonorable  action ;  and  when  the  unexpe6ted 
application,  Thou  art  the  man^  comes  thundering  fuddenly 
upon  him,  and  points  out  the  perfeft  fimilarity  of  the 
fuppofed  cafe  to  his  own,  the  aftoniflied  criminal,  over- 
whelmed with  confufion,  and  driven  from  all  his  ufual 
fubterfuges  and  evafions,  is  compelled  at  length  to  con- 
demn himfelf. 

It  v/as  probably  the  confideration  of  thefe  delufions, 
and  the  other  reafons  above  affigned,  which  gave  rife  to 
fo  general  and  fo  ancient  a  cuftom  of  conveying  moral 
inftruftion  under  the  cover  of  imaginary  agents  and  fidi- 
tious  events.  We  find  traces  of  it  in  the  earlielf  writers  ; 
and  it  was  more  peculiarly  cultivated  in  the  eaft,  the  re- 
gion where  religion  and  fcience  firft  took  their  rife.  The 
moft  ancient  parables  perhaps  on  record  are  thofe  we  meet 
with  in  the  Old  Teflament ;  thdt  of  Jotham,  for  inf^ance, 
where  the  trees  defired  the  bramble  to  reign  over  them*  ; 

*  Judge*  ix.  14. 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E    XL  171 

that  cf  Nathan* ;  that  of  the  woman  of  Tekoahf ,  in  ths 
reign  of  David  ;  and  that  of  the  thiftk  and  tlie  cedar  of 
Lebanon^,  by  Jehoafh,  king  of  Ifrael.  From  the 
eaU  this  fpecies  of  compofition  pafled  into  Greece  and 
Italy,  and  thence  into  the  reft  of  Europe ;  and  there  are 
t\vo  celebrated  writers,  one  In  the  Greek,  the  other  in  the 
Roman  tongue,  whofe  fables  every  one  is  acquainted  with 
from  their  earlieft  years.  Thefe,  it  muft  be  owned,  are 
elegant,  amufmg,.  and,  in  a  certain  degree,  moral  and 
inilruclive.  But  they  are  not  in  any  degree  to  be  compar- 
ed with  the  parables  of  our  blefled  Lord,  which  infinitely 
excel  tLem,  and  every  otlier  compofition  of  that  fpecies, 
iu  many  eiTential  points. 

1.  In  the  firfl  place,  the  fables  of  the  ancients  are  ma- 
ny of  them  of  a  very  trivial  nature,  or  at  the  befc  contain 
nothing  more  than  maxims  of  mere  worldly  wifdom  and 
common  prudence,  and  fometimcs  perhaps  a  little  moral 
inilrudion. 

But  the  parables  of  our  blefTed  Lord  relate  to  fiibjefis 
of  the  very  higheft  importance  ;  to  the  great  leading  prin- 
ciples of  human  condnft,  to  the  eflential  duties  of  man,, 
to  the  nature  and  progrefs  of  the  Chriftian  religion,  to 
the  moral  government  of  the  world,  to  the  great  diftinc- 
tions  between  vice  and  virtue,  to  the  awful  fcenes  of  eter- 
nity, to  the  divine  influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  to  the 
great  work  of  out  redem.ption,  to  a  refurredlion  and  a  fu- 
ture judgment,  and  the  diftribution  of  rewards  and  pun- 
illiments  in  a  future  (late  ;  and  all  this  expreffed  vrith  a. 
dignity  of  fentirrient,  and  a  fimplicity  of  language,  per- 
fectly well  fulted  to  the  grandeur  of  the  fubjeft. 

2.  In  the  next  place,  the  fables  of  the  learned  hea- 
thens, though  entertaining  and  well  compofed,  are  in 
general  cold  and  dry,  and  calculated  more  to  pleafe  the 
underftandlng  than  to  touch  the  heart.  Whereas  thofe  of 
our  bleifed  Lord  are  moft  of  them  in  the  higheft  degree 
affe61ing  and  interefttng.  Such  for  inftance  are  the  para- 
ble of  the  loft  flieep,  cf  the  prodigal  fon,  of  the  rich  man  and 

*  a  Sam.  xii-   t-         +  t  Pp.m.  ^iv.         t  2  Kings  xiv,  9. 


in  LECTURE    XL 

Lazarus,  of  the  Pharifee  and  Publican,  of  tTie  unforgiv- 
ing fervant,  of  the  good  Samaritan.  There  is  nothing- 
m  all  heathen  antiquity  to  be  compared  to  thefe  ;  nothing- 
that  fpeaks  fo  forcibly  to  our  tendereft  feelings  and  affec- 
tions, and  leaves  fuch  deep  arid  lafting  impreflions  upon 
the  foul. 

Sdly.  The  Greek  and  Roman  fables  are  moft  of  them 
founded  on  improbable  or  impoffible  circu-mftances,  and 
arefuppofed  converfations  between  animate  or  inanimate 
beings,  not  endowed  with  the  power  of  fpeech  ;.  between 
birds,  beafts,  reptiles,  and  trees  j  a  circumftance  which' 
fhocks  the  imagination^  and  of  courfe  weakens  the  force 
of  the  inftrudticn. 

Our  Saviour's  parables  on  the  contrary  are  all  of  them 
images  and  alluficns  taken  from  nature,  and  from  occur- 
rences v/hich  are  moft  familiar  to  our  obfervation  and  ex- 
perience in  common  life ;  and  the  events  related  are  not 
only  fuch  as  might  very  probably  happen,  but  feveral  of 
them  are  fuppcfed  to  be  fuch  as  actually  did  ;  and  this 
would  have  the  effect  of  a  true  hiflorical  narrative,  which 
we  all  know  to  carry  much  greater  weight  and  authority 
with  it  than  the  moft  ingenious  fidion.  Of  the  former 
fort  are  the  rich  man  and  Lazarus,  of  the  good  Samari- 
tan, and  of  the  prodigal  fon.  There  are  others  in  which 
our  Saviour  feem.s  to  allude  to  fome  hiftorical  fafts  which 
happened  in  thofe  times  ;  as  that  wherein  it  is  faid,  that  a 
king  went  into  a  far  country,  there  to  receive  a  kingdom. 

This  probably  refers  to  the  hiftory  of  Archelaus,  who, 
after  the  death  of  his  father,  Herod  the  Great,  went  to 
Rome  to  receive  from  Auguftus  the  confirmation  of  his 
father's  will,  by  which  he  had  the  kingdom  of  Judea  left 
to  him. 

Thefe  circumftances  give  a  decided  fuperiority  to  our 
Lord's  parables  over  the  fables  of  the  ancients  ;  and  if 
we  compare  them  with  thofe  of  the  Koran,  the  difference 
is  ftill  greater.  The  parables  of  Mahomet  are  trifling  ; 
unintercfting,  tedious,  and  dull.  Among  other  things 
which  he  has  borrowed  from   Scripture,  one  is  the  para- 


LECTURE     :^a,  17S 

ble  of  Natlia^,  In  which  he  has  moft  ingenuoiifly  contriv- 
ed to  deftroy  all  its  fplrit,  force,  and  beauty;  and  has  £o 
•completely  diftorted  and  deformed  its  whole  texture  and 
compofition,  that  if  the  commentator  had  not  informed 
you,  in  very  gentle  terms,  that  it  is  the  parable  of  Nathan 
n  little  d'lfgu'ifed,  you  would  fcarce  have  known  it  to  be  the 
fame.  Such  is  the  difference  between  a  prophet  who  is 
really  infpired,  and  an  impoflor  who  pretends  to  be  fo. 

Nor  is  it  only  in  his  parables,  but  in  his  other  dlfcourfes 
to  the  people,  that  Jefus  draws  his  doftrines  and  inftrudions 
from  the  fcenes  of  nature,  from  the  objeds  that  furround- 
ed  him,  from  the  mod  common  occurrences  of  life,  from 
the  feafons  of  the  year,  from  fome  extraordinary  incidents 
or  remarkable  tranfadlions.  "  Thus,''  as  a  learned  and 
ingenious  writer  has  obferved*,  upon  curing  a  blind  man,, 
**  he  ftyles  himfelf  the  light  of  the  world,  and  reproves 
the  Pharifees  for  their  fpiritual  blindnefs  and  inexcufable 
obftinacy  in  refufmg  to  be  cured  and  enlightened  by  him. 
On  little  children  being  brought  to  him,  he  recommends 
the  innocence,  the  fimplicity,  the  meeknefs,  the  humility, 
the  docility,  of  that  lovely  age,  as  indifpenfable  qualifi- 
tions  for  thofe  that  would  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heav- 
en. Beholding  the  flowers  of  the  field,  and  the  fowls  of 
the  air,  he  teaches  his  difciples  to  frame  right  and  worthy 
notions  of  that  Providence  which  fupports  and  adorns 
them,  and  will  therefore  afTuredly  not  negled  the  fuperior 
order  of  rational  beings.  Obferving  the  fruits  of  the 
earth,  he  inftru6ts  them  to  judge  of  men  by  their  fruit- 
fulnefs  under  all  the  means  of  grace.  From  the  mention 
of  meat  and  drink,  he  leads  them  to  the  facred  rite  of 
eating  his  body  and  drinking  his  blood  in  a  fpiritual  fenfe. 
From  external  ablutions,  he  deduces  the  neccflity  of  puri- 
fying the  heart,  and  cleanfmg  the  affections,  Thofe  that 
were  filters,  he  teaches  to  be  fifhers  of  men  ;  to  draw 
them  by  the  force  of  argument  and  perfuafion,  aided  by 
the  influence  of  divine  grace,  to  the  belief  and  pradice  of 
true  religion.  Seeing  the  money-changers,  he  exhorts  his 
difciples  to  lay  out  their  feveral  talents  to  the  beft  advan- 
tage.    Being   among  the  fheep^folds,  he  proves  himfelf 

♦  Ssc  Bifliop  \uvx\  C^nfitleration?  on  the  Theory  of  Religion, 


174  L  E  C  T  U  R  E     XL 

tiie  true  fheplierd  of  Souls.  Among  vines  he  difcourfes 
of  the  fpiritual  hufbandman  and  vine-dreiler,  and  draws  a 
parallel  between  his  vineyard  and  the  natural  one.  Upon 
the  appearance   of  fummer  in  the  trees  before  him,  he 

points  out  evident  figns  of  his  approaching  kingdom 

When  the  harveft  comes  on,  he  reminds  his  difciples  of 
the  fpiritual  harveft,  the  harvell  of  true  believers  ;  and 
exhorts  them  to  labor  diligently  in  that  work,  and  add 
their  prayers  to  Heaven  for  its  fuccefs.  From  fervants 
being  made  free  in  the  fabbatical  year,  he  takes  occafion 
to  proclaim  a  nobler  emancipation  and  more  important  re- 
demption from  the  flavery  of  fm,  and  the  bondage  of  cor- 
ruption, by  the  death  of  Chrift.  From  the  eminence  of 
a  city  Handing  on  a  hill,  he  turns  his  difcourfe  to  the  con- 
fpicuous  fituation  of  his  own  difciples.  From  the  temple 
before  him,  he  points  to  that  of  his  own  body  ;  and  from 
Herod's  unadvifedly  leading  out  his  army  to  meet  the  king 
of  Arabia,  who  came  againft  him  with  a  fuperior  force, 
and  defeated  him,  a  leffon  is  held  out  to  all  who  entered 
on  the  Chriflian  warfare,  that  they  Ihould  firft  well  weigh 
and  carefully  compute  the  difficulties  attending  it,  and  by 
the  grace  of  God  refolve  to  furmount  them.'' 

In  the  fame  manner,  when  he  delivered  the  parable  of 
tlie  fower,  which  we  find  in  this  chapter,  and  which  will 
be  the  next  fubjeft  of  our  confideration,  it  was  probably 
feed-time,  and  from  the  fliip  in  which  he  taught  he  might 
obferve  the  hufbandmen  fcattering  their  feed  upon  the 
earth.  From  thence  he  took  occafion  to  illuftrate,  by  that 
rural  and  familiar  image,  the  different  eifeds  which  the 
docTcrines  of  Chriftianity  had  on  different  men,  according 
to  the  different  tempers  and  difpofitions  that  they  happen- 
ed to  meet  with. 

"  Behold,"  fays  he,  "a  fower  went  forth  to  fow.  And 
when  he  fowed,  fome  fell  by  the  way-fide,  and  the  fowls 
came  and  devoured  them  up.  Some  fell  upon  flony  places, 
where  they  had  not  much  earth,  and  fortwith  they  fprung 
up,  becaufe  they  had  no  deepnefs  of  earth  ;  and  when 
the  fun  was  up  they  were  fcOrched,  and  becaufe  they  had 
no  root  they  A\nthered  away.  And  fome  fell  among  tlioms, 
ani  the  thorns  fprang  up  and  choked  tliem.     But  other 


LECTURE    XL  175 

^ell  into  good  ground,  and  brought  forth  fruit,  fome  a 
hundred  fold,  fome  fixty  fold,  fome  tliirty  fold."  As  our 
bleiled  Lord,  foon  after  he  had  uttered  this  parable,  ex- 
plained it  to  his  difciples,  it  is  highly  proper  that  you 
ihould  have  this  explanation  in  his  own  words.  *•  Hear 
ye,  therefore,"  fays  he,  "  the  parable  of  the  fower. — 
When  any  one  heareth  the  word  of  the  kingdom  and  un- 
derftandeth  it  not,  then  coraetli  tlie  wicked  one,  and 
catcheth  away  that  which  was  fown  in  his  heart.  This 
is  he  which  received  feed  by  the  way-fide.  But  he  that 
received  the  feed  into  ilony  places,  the  fame  is  he  that 
heareth  the  word,  and  anon  witli  joy  receiveth  it  ;  yet 
hath  he  not  root  in  himfelf,  but  dureth  for  a  while  ;  for 
when  tribulation  or  perfecution  arifeth  becaufe  of  the 
word,  by  and  by  he  is  offended.  He  alfo  that  received 
feed  among  the  thorns,  is  he  that  heareth  the  word,  and 
the  cares  of  this  world  and  the  deceitfulnefs  of  riches 
choke  the  word,  and  he  becometh  unfruitful.  But  he  that 
received  feed  into  the  good  ground,  is  he  that  heareth  tlie 
word  and  underftandeth  it ;  which  alfo  bearetli  fruit,  and 
bringeth  forth  fome  a  hundred  fold,  fome  fixty,  fome 
thirty." 

Such  is  the  parable  of  the  fower,  and  the  explanation 
of  it  by  our  Saviour,  which  will  furnifh  us  with  abundant 
matter  for  a  great  variety  of  very  important  reSedlions. 
But  as  thefc  cannot  be  diftin<Sly  ftated  and  fufHciently  en- 
larged upon  at  prefent,  without  going  to  a  confiderable 
length  of  time,  and  trefpaffing  too  far  on  that  patience 
and  indulgence  which  I  have  already  but  too  often  put  to 
the  teft,  I  muil  ref3rve  for  my  next  Le<Sure  the  obferva- 
tions  I  have  to  offer  on  this  very  interefting  and  inftrudliva 
parable. 


~<X"<  ■<■•<-<■<••<•<•<•<■<••<••<•<••<•■•<■•<••<•<••■<••<>••>•••>••>••>■•>■•>••>••>••>•>••>•>•>->••>••>•■>•>■>•>  >■■►" 


LECTURE     XII. 


MATTHEW  xlif.  continued* 


HE  lafl  Le<5lure  concluded  with  a  recital  of 
tlie  parable  of  the  fower,  and  our  Lord's  explanation  of 
it ;  and  1  now  proceed  to  lay  before  you  thofe  reflevlicns 
which  it  has  fuggefted  to  my  mind. 

In  the  firft  place  then  it  mufl:  be  obferved,  that  this 
parable,  like  many  others,  is  prophetic  as  well  as  inftruc- 
tive ;  it  predicts  the  fate  of  the  Chriftian  religion  in  the 
-world,  and  the  different  forts  of  reception  it  will  meet 
with  from  different  men.  And  as  tliis  predidion  is  com- 
pletely verified  by  the  prefent  ftate  of  religion,  as  we  fee 
it  at  this  hour  exilHng  among  ourfelves,  it  affords  one  ve- 
ry decifive  proof  of  Chrift's  power  of  forefeeing  future 
events,  and  of  courfe  tends  ftrongly  to  eftablifh  the  truth 
of  his  pretenfions,  and  the  divine  authority  of  his  religion. 

In  the  next  place  it  is  evident  tliat  there  are  four  differ- 
ent clafTes  of  men  here  defcribed,  which  comprehend  all 
the  different  religious  or  irreligious  charat^ers  tliat  are  to 
be  met  with  in  the  world.  The  firft  confifts  of  thofe 
**  that  hear  the  word  of  the  kingdom  (as  our  Lord  ex- 
prefies  it)  andunderftand  it  not  ;  then  cpmeth  the  wicked 
one  and  catcheth  away  that  which  was  fown  in  their  hearts. 
Thefe  are  tliey,  fays  he,  which  received  feed  by  the  way- 
fide."  By  thefe  are  meant  thofe  perfons  whofe  minds, 
like  the  beaten  high  road,  are  hard  and  impenetrable,  and 
inacceflible  to  convii^tion.  Of  tliefe  we  all  know  there  are 
too  many  in  the  world  ;  fome  who  have  imbibed  early  and 
deep-rooted  prejudices  againft  Chriftianity  ;  v/ho  either 
conceiving  themfelves  fuperior  to  the  reft  of  mankind  in 
genius,  knowledge,  and  penetration,  rejedt  with  fcorn 
whatever  tlie  bulk  of  mankind  receives  v/ith  veneratipn, 

O 


178  LECTURE    XII. 

and  ered  favourite  fyftems  of  their  own,  which  they  con- 
ceive  to  be  the  very  perfedion  of  human  wifdom  ;  or,  on 
the  other  hand,  having  been  unfortunately  very  early  ini- 
tiated in  the  writings  of  modern  philofophills,  implicitly 
adopt  the  opinions  of  thofe  whom  they  confider  as  the 
great  luminaries  and  oracles  of  the  age,  receive  ridicule 
as  argument,  and  afTertion  as  proof  and  prefer  the  fdly 
witticifms,  the  fpecious  fophiftry,  the  metaphyfical  fubtle- 
ty,  the  courfe  buffoonery,  which  diftinguifh  many  of  the 
moft  popular  opponents  of  our  faith,  to  the  fimpllclty, 
dignity,  and  fublimity  of  the  divine  truths  of  the  Gofpel. 
Thefe  are  the  profelTed  infidels,  or,  as  they  choofe  to  ftyle 
themfelves,  the  difciples  of  philofophy  and  reafon,  and 
the  enemies  of  priedcraft,  fanaticifm,  and  fuperftition. 

But  beildes  thefe  there  is  another  defcription  of  men, 
on  whom  the  good  feek  makes  little  or  no  imprefhon  ;  thefe 
are  the  thoughtlefs,  the  inattentive,  the  inconfiderate,  the 
trifling,  the  gay,  who  think  of  nothing  beyond  the  pre- 
fent  fcene,  and  who  do  not  confider  themfelves  as  in  the 
fmallell  degree  intereiled  in  any  thing  elfe.  Thefe  men, 
without  profeffing  themfelves  unbelievers,  without  formal- 
ly and  exphcitly  rejecting  the  Gofpel,  yet  do  In  fad  never 
concern  themfelves  about  it.  It  forms  no  part  of  their 
fyftem,  it  does  not  at  all  enter  into  their  plans  of  life.  The 
former  fort  above  defcribed  are  infidels  on  principle  ;  thefe 
are  practical  infidels,  without  any  prmciple  at  all.  Being 
born  of  Chrifllan  parents,  and  inflru6led  perhaps  in  the 
firft  rudiments  of  Chriftianlty,  they  call  themfelves  Chrif- 
tian  ;  they  attend  divine  fervice,  they  repeat  their  prayers, 
they  liften  to  the  difcourfes  of  the  preacher,  they  make 
no  obje-ftions  to  what  they  hear,  they  queftion  not  the  pro- 
priety of  what  they  are  taught  ?  but  here  their  religion 
ends ;  it  never  goes  beyond  the  furface,  it  never  penetrates 
into  tlieir  hearts.  It  lies  on  the  hard  beaten  highway.  The 
inllant  they  leave  the  church,  every  idea  of  religion  van- 
ifhes  out  of  their  thoughts  ;  they  never  refiefl  for  one  mo- 
ment on  what  they  have  heard  ;  they  never  confider  the 
infinite  importance  of  what  is  to  happen  after  death  ?  the 
awful  profpefts  of  eternity  never  prefent  themfelves  to  their 
minds,  neither  excite  their  hopes  nor  alarm  their  fears.— ^ 


LECTURE    Xn,  17i^ 

**  With  their  mouths  indeed  they  confefs  the  Lord  Jefus, 
but  they  do  not 'believe  with  their  hearts  unto  falvation  ;" 
and  although  perhaps  in  the  wide  wafte  of  a  trifling  infig- 
nificant  hfe,  a  few  worthy  a6iions  or  a  few  fcHtary  virtues 
appear,  yet  their  affections  are  not  fet  on  things  above, 
their  hopes  are  not  centered  there,  their  views  do  not  tend 
there  ;  their  treaiure  is  on  earth,  and  there  is  their  heart 
alfo. 

Thefe  two  charafters,  the  hardened  unbeliever,  and  the 
mere  nominal  Chriftian,  conftitute  the  firft  clafs  defcribed 
by  our  Saviour  in  the  parable  of  the  fower.  Thefe  are 
they  which  receive  the  feed  by  the  way  fide,  where  it  lies 
neglected  upon  the  furface,  4:ill  "  the  fowls  of  the  air  de- 
vour it,  or  the  wicked  one  catcheth  it  out  of  their  hearts  ;'* 
and  there  is  an  end  at  once  of  all  their  hopes  of  falvation, 
.perhaps  for  ever. 

Secondly,  There  is  another  fort  of  foil  mentioned  in  the 
parable,  which  gives  the  feed  at  firfl  a  more  favourable  re- 
ception. When  it  falls  on  ftony  ground,  it  finds  no  great 
difficulty  in  gaining  admiffion  into  a  little  loofe  earth  fcat- 
tcred  upon  a  rock  ;  it  fprings  up  with  amazing  rapidity  ; 
but  no  fooner  "  does  the  fun  rife  upon  it  with  its  fcorching 
heat,  than  it  withers  away  for  want  of  depth  of  earth, 
root,  and  moifture," 

What  a  lively  reprefentation  is  this  of  weak  and  unlia- 
ble Chriftians  !  They  receive  Chriftianity  at  firft  with  glad- 
nefs  ;  they  are  extremely  ready  to  be  made  eternally  hap- 
py, and  fappofe  that  they  have  nothing  elfe  to  do  but  to 
repeat  theif  creed,  and  take  poffeffion  of  heaven.  But 
when  they  find  that  there  are  certain  conditions  to  be  per- 
formed on  t/mr  parts  alfo  ;  that  they  m-uil  give  up  their 
favourite  interefts  and  reftrain  their  ftrongeft  paffions,  mull 
fometimes  even  pluck  out  a  right  eye  or  tear  off  a  right 
arm  ;  that  they  muft  take  up  their  crofs  and  follow  a  cru- 
cified Saviour  through  many  difficulties,  diftre/Tes,  and 
perfecuticns,  their  ardour  and  alacrity  are  inftantly  extin- 
guifhed.  They  want  ftrength  of  mind,  foundnefs  of  prin- 
ciple, and  fmcerity  of  faith  to  fupport  them.  No  wonder 
then  that  they  fall  away  and  depart  from  their  allegiance 


aso  X  E  C  T  U  R  E    XIL 

to  their  divine  Mafter  and  Redeemer.     This  is  the  feconS 
fort  of  hearers  defcribed  in  the  parable,  *•  that  receive  the 
word  at  RrH  with  joy  ;  but  having  no  root  in  themfelves, 
when  tribulation  and  perfecution  arife  becaufe  of  the  word, 
by  and  by  they  are  offended."     This  refers  more  imme- 
diately to  the  firft  difciples  and  iirft  preachers  of  the  Gof- 
pel,  who  were  expofed  in  the  difcharge  of  their  high  of- 
fice to  the  fevered  trials,  and  the  crueleft  perfecutions  from 
their  numerous  and   powerful  enemies.     Some  of  them 
undoubtedly,  who  had  not  fufEcient  root  in  themfelves, 
gave  way  to  the  ftorms  that  affailed  them,  and  made  ffiip- 
wreck  of  their  faith,  as  our  Lord  here  foretels  that  they 
would.     But  others  we  know  flood  firm  and  unmoved, 
amidft  the  mofl  tremenduous  dangers,  and  underwent, 
with  unparalleled  fortitude,  the  moft  excruciating  torments. 
The  defcription  which  the  writer  to  the  Hebrews  gives  of 
the  faints   and  prophets  of   old,  may,  with   the  flriclefl 
truth,  be  applied  to  the  apollles  and  their  fucceffors  in  the 
iirft  ages  of  the  Gofpel,  under  the  various  perfecutions  to 
which  they  were  expofed.     "**  They  had  trial  of   cruel 
mockings  and  fcourgings,  yea  m.oreover  of  bonds  and  im- 
prifonments.     They  were  ftoned,  they  were  fawn  aflmder, 
were  tempted,  were  llain  with  the  fword,  were  deftitute, 
afflidted,  tormented*."     All  thefe  barbarities  they  "endur- 
ed with  unfhaken  patience  and  firmnefs,  and  thereby  bore 
the  flrongeft  poffible  teftimony,  not  only  to  their  own  fni- 
cerity,  but  to  the  divine  and  miraculous  infiaence  of  the 
religion  which  they  taught.      For  it  is  juftly  and  forcibly 
obferved  by  the  excellent  Mr.  Addifon,  that  the  aftonifh- 
ing  and  unexampled  fortitude  which  was  fhewn  by  innu- 
merable m.ultitudes  of  martyrs,  in  thofe  flow  and  painful 
torments  that  were  infli6ted  on  them,  is  nothing  lefs  than 
ajlanding  rmrack  during  the  three  firft  centuries.      "  I  cagt- 
not,  fays  he,  conceive  a  man  placed  in  the  burning  iron 
chair  of  Lyons,  amidft  the  infults  and  mockeries  of  .1 
crowded  amphitheatre,    and  ftill   keeping  his   feat  ;    or 
ftretched  upon  a  grate  of  iron  over  an  intenfe  fire,  and 
breathing  out  his  foul  amidft  the  exquifite   fufFerings  of 
fuch  a  tedious  execution,  rather  than  renounce  his  religion, 
or  blafphenic  his  Saviour,  without  fuppofing  fomethin^ 

*  Hebrew  w,  37, 


LECTURE     Xir.  1st 

fiipernatiiral.  Such  trials  feem  to  me  above  the  (liength 
of  human  nature,  and  able  to  oTerbear  duty,  reafon, 
faith,  convidion,  nay,  and  the  moft  abfolute  certainty  of 
a  future  ftate.  We  can  eafily  imagine  that  a  few  perfons 
in  fo  good  a  caufe  might  have  laid  down  their  lives  at  the 
gibbet,  the  ftake,  or  the  blocli: ;  but  that  multiiudes  of 
each  fex,  of  every  age,  of  different  countries  and  condi- 
tions, Ihould,  for  near  three  ^xundr^d  years  together,  ex- 
pire leifurely  amidft  the  moll  exquifite  tortures,  rather  than 
apoftatize  from  the  truth,  has  fomething  in  it  fo  far  be- 
yond the  natural  flrength  and  force  of  mortals,  that  one 
cannot  but  conclude  there  was  fome  miraculous  power  to 
fupport  the  fufFerers ;  and  if  {q,  here  is  at  once  a  proof, 
from  hi  (lory  and  from  fa(5t,  of  the  divine  origin  of  our 
religion*." 

There  is  a  third  portion  of  the  (eed  that  falls  among 
thorns.  This  wants  neither  root  nor  depth  of  earth.  It 
grows  up  ;  but  the  misfortune  is,  that  the  thorns  grov/  up 
with  it.  The  fault  of  the  foil  is  not  tliat  of  bearing  noth- 
ing, but  of  bearing  too  much  ;  of  be?.ring  what  it  ought 
not,  of  exhaufling  its  flrength  and  nutrition  on  vile  and 
worthlefs  produflions,  which  choke  the  good  feed,  and 
prevent  it  from  coming  to  perfection.  "  Thefe  are  they, 
fays  our  Saviour,  in  the  parallel  place  of  ^t.  Luke,  which, 
when  they  have  heard,  go  forth,  and  are  choked  with  cares, 
and  riches,  and  pleafures  of  this  life,  and  bring  no  fruit 
to  perfedlion."  In  their  youth  perhaps  they  receive  reli- 
gious inllrudion,  they  Imbibe  right  principles,  and  liften 
to  good  advice  ;  but  no  fooner  do  they  go  forth ,  no  fooner 
do  they  leave  thofe  pei-foiis  and  thofe  places  from  whom 
they  received  them,  than  they  take  the  road  either  of  bu- 
fmefs  or  of  pleafure,  purfue  their  interefts,  their  "amufe- 
ments,  or  their  guilty  indulgences  with  unbounded  eager- 
nefs,  and  have  neither  time  nor  inclination  to  cultivate  the 
feeds  of  religion  that  have  been  fown  in  their  hearts,  and 
to  eradicate  the,  weeds  that  have  been  mingled  with  tliem. 
The  confequence  is,  that  the  v^-eeds  prevail,  and  the  fe^ds 
^are  choked  and  lod. 

*  Addifon's  Evidences,  S.  7. 


IB2  LECTURE     XII. 

Can  there  poffibly  be  a  more  faithful  pidure  of  a-  large- 
proportion  of  the  Chrlftian  world  ?  Let  us  look  around  us^ 
and  obferve  how  the  greater  part  of  thofe  we  meet  with  • 
are  employed.  In  what  is  it  that  their  thoughts  are  bufi- 
ed,  their  views,  their  hopes,  and  their  fears  eentured,  their 
attention  occupied,  their  hearts  and  fouls  and,  affections  en- 
gaged ?  Is  it  in  fearching  the  Scriptures,  in  meditating  on. 
its  do(5lrines,  its  precepts,  its  exhortations,  its  promifes,. 
and  its  threats  ?  Is  it  in  communing  with  their  own  hearts,, 
in  probing  them  to  the  very  bottom,  in  looking  carefully 
whether  there  be  any  way  of  wickednefs  in  .them,  in  pluck- 
ing  out  every  noxious  weed,  and  leaving  room  for  the  good 
feed  to  grow  and  fwell  and  expand  itfelf,  and  bring  forth 
fruit  to  perfection  ?  Is^  it  in  cultivating  pu-rity  of  manners,, 
a  fpirit  of  charity  towards  the  whole  human  race,  and  the^ 
moft  exalted  fentiments  of  piety,  gratitude,  and  love  to- 
wards their  Maker  and  Redeemer  ?  Tliefe  I  fear  are  far 
from  being  the  general  and  principal  occupations  of  man- 
kind. Too  many  of  them  are,  God  knows,  very  differ- 
ently employed.  They  are  overwhelmed  with  bufmefs, 
they  are  devoted  to  amufernent,  they^are  immerfed  in  fen- 
fuality,  they  are  mad  with  ambition,'  they  are  idolaters  of 
wealth,  of  power,  of  glory,  of  fame.  On  thefe  things 
all  their  affedions  are  fixed.  Thefe  are  the  great  objeCls 
of  their  purfuit ;  and  if  any  accidental  thought  of  reli- 
gion happens  to  crofs  their  way,  they  inftantly  difmifs  the 
mibidden,  unw^elcome  gueft,  v/ith  the  anfwer  of  Felix  to 
Paul,  "  Go  thy  v/ay  for  this  time  ;  when  we  have  a.  con^' 
venient  feafon  we  will  fend  for  thee." 

But  how  then,  it  is  faid,  are  we  to  conduCl:  ourfelves  ? 
If  Providence  has  bleffed  us  with  riches,  with  honor,  with 
pov/er,  with  reputation,  are  we  to  reject  thefe  gifts  of  our 
heavenly  Father  ;  or  ought  we  not  rather  to  accept  them 
with  thankfulnefs,  and  enjoy  with  gratitude,  ,the  advan- 
tages and  the  comforts  which  his  bounty  has  bellowed  up- 
on us  ?  Moll  aikiredly  we  ought.  But  then  they  are  to  be 
enjoyed  aifo  with  innocence,  with  temperance,  and  with 
moderation.  They  muft  not  be  allowed  to  ufurp  the  firfl 
place  in  our  hearts.     They  mufl  not  be  permitted  to  fup- 


LECTURE     Xir.  IS5 

plant  God  in  our  afFedlon,  or  to  difpute  that  pre-eminence 
and  priority  which  he  claims  over  every  propenfity  of  our 
nature.  This  and  this  only  can  prevent  the  good  {eed 
from  being  choked  with  the  cares,  the  rices,  and  the  plea- 
fures  of  the  prefent  life. 

We  now  come  in  the  lall  place  to  the  feed  which  fell  on 
good  ground,  which  our  Lord  tells  us  in  St.  Luke,  de- 
notes thofe  that  in  an  honeft  and  good  heart,  having  heard 
word,  keep  it,  and  bring  forth  fruit  with  patience,  fome 
an  hundred  fold,  fome  fixty,  fome  thirty. 

We  here  fee  that  the  firft  and  principal  qualification  for 
hearing  the  word  of  God,  for  keeping  it,  for  rendering  it 
capable  of  bringing  forth  fruit,  is  an  honeft  and  a  good 
heart  ;  that  is,  a  heart  free  from  all  thofe  evil  difpofitions 
and  corrupt  paflions  which  blind  the  eyes,  diftort  the  un- 
derftanding,  and  obftrudi:  the  admiffion  of  divine  truth  ;  a 
heart  perfe(5lly  clear  from  prejudice,  from  pride,  from 
vanity,  from  felf-fufficiency,  and  felf-conceit  ;  a  heart 
fincerely  difpofed  and  earaeftly  defirous  to  find  out  the 
truth,  and  firmly  refoived  to  embrace  it  when  found  ;-— 
ready  to  acknowledge  its  own  ignorance,  and  v/eaknefs, 
and  corruption,  and  "  to  receive  with  meeknefs  the  in- 
grafted word,  which  is  able  to  fave  the  foul." 

This  is  that  innocence  and  fimplicity  and  fmglenefs  of 
mind,  which  we  find  fo  frequently  recom.mended  and  fo 
highly  applauded  by  our  blefifed  Lord,  and  which  is  fo 
beautifully  and  feelingly  defcribed  when  young  children 
were  brought  to  him  that  he  fhould  touch  them,  and  were 
checked  by  his  difciples.  "  Suffer  little  children  to  come 
unto  me,  fays  he,  and  forbid  them  not,  for  of  fuch  is  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  ;  and  then  he  adds,  whofoever  fliall 
not  receive  the  kingdom  of  God  as  a  little  child  he  fhall 
not  enter  therein*."  Here,  in  a  few  words,  and  by  a  moft 
fignificant  and  atleffting  emblem,  is  exprefTed  that  temper 
and  difpofition  of  mind  which  is  the  moil  effential  qualifi- 
cation for  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Unlefs  we  come  to  the 
Gofpel   with    that  meeknefs,    gentlenefs,    dogility,    and 

*  Mark  x.  14,  x$. 


184.  LECTURE     XII. 

guilelefs  fimpiicity,  which  conftitute  the  charaiJler  of  z 
child,  and  render  him  fo  lovely  and  captivating,  we  can- 
not enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  vv-e  cannot  either 
aiTent  to  the  evidence,  believe  the  doftrines,  or  obey  the 
precepts  of  the  Chriftian  religion.  Hence  we  fee  the  true 
reafon  why  fo  many  men  of  diftinguifhed  talents  have  rejeft- 
ed  the  religion  of  Chrift.  It  is  not  becaufe  its  evidences  are 
defedive,  or  its  doftrines  repugnant  to  reafon  ;  it  is  be- 
caufe tlieir  difpoiitions  were  the  very  re-verfe  of  what  the 
Gofpel  requires  ;  becaufe  (as  their  writings  evidently  fhow) 
the)'-  were  high-fpirited,  violent,  proud,  conceited,  vain, 
difdainful,  and  fometimes  profligate  too  ;  becaufe,  in  fliort, 
they  wanted  that  honell  and  good  heart,  vrhich  not  only 
receives  the  good  feed,  but  keeps  it,  and  nouriflies  it  with 
unceafmg  patience,  till  it  bring  forth  fruit  to  perfection. 
They  could  not  enter  into  the  marriage  feaft  becaufe  they 
had  not  on  the  wedding  garment,  becaufe  they  were  not 
clothed  iviih  humiliiy^.  For  "  God  refifteth  the  proud,  but 
giveth  grace  to  the  humble.  Them '  that  are  meek  Ihall 
he  guide  in  judgment,  and  fuch  as  are  gentle,  them  fhall 
he  learn  his  wayf ." 

But  here  arifes  a  difficulty  on  which  the  enemies  ©f  our 
faith  lay  great  ftrefs,  and  frequently  alledge  as  an  excufe 
for  their  infidelity  and  impiety.  If,  fay  they,  the  fuccefs 
of  the  good  feed  depends  on  the  foil  in  which  it  is  fown, 
the  fuccefs  of  the  Gofpel  mufl,  in  the  fame  manner,  de- 
pend (as  this  very  parable  is  meant  to  prove)  on  the  teni- 
per  and  difpcfition  of  the  recipient,  of  the  perfon  to  whom 
it  is  oS'ered.  Now  this  temper  and  difpofition  are  not  of 
our  own  making  :  they  are  the  work  of  nature  ;  they  are 
what  our  Creator  has  given  us.  If  then,  in  any  particu- 
lar inflance,  they  are  unfortunately  fuch  as  difqualify  lis 
for  the  reception  of  the  Gofpel,  the  fault  is  not  ours  ;  it 
is  in  the  foil,  it  is  in  cur  natural  conftitution,  for  which 
farely  we  cannot  be  held  refponfible. 

This  plea  is  fpecious  and  plaufible  ;  but  it  is  nothing 
more-  The  fa6t  is,  that  the  imbecility  and  corruption  in- 
troduced into  our  moral  frame  by  the  fall  cf   cur  firft  pa- 

*  I  Pet.  V.  5.  f  James,  iv.  6.     Tfalni,  x>v,  9. 


LECTURE    XII.  185 

rents,  is  in  fome  meafure  felt  by  all ;  but  undoubtedly  in 
different  individuals  fliews  itfelf  in  different  degrees,  and 
thai  from  their  very  earlieft  years.  Look  at  any  large 
family  of  children  living  together  under  the  eye  of  their 
parents,  and  you  will  frequently  difcovcr  in  them  a  fur- 
prizing  variety  of  tempers,  humors,  and  difpofitions  ; 
end  although  the  fame  infl:ru»5lions  are  given  to  all,  the 
liime  care  and  attention,  the  fame  difcipline,  the  fame 
vigilance  exercifed  over  each,  yet  fome  fhall  be,  in  their 
general  conduft,  meek,  gentle,  and  fubmiffive  ;  others 
impetuous,  paffionate,  and  froward ;  fome  a<ftive,  enter- 
prizing, -and  bold;  others  quiet,  contented  and  calm  5 
fome  cunning,  artful,  and  clofe  •,  others  open,  frank,  and 
ingenuous  ;  fome,  in  fliort,  malevolent,  mifchievous,  and 
imfeeling  ;  others  kind,  companionate,  good-natured,  and 
though  fometimes  betraying  the  infirmity  of  human  na- 
ture by  cafaal  omiilions  of  duty  and  errors  of  conduft, 
yet  foon  made  fenfible  of  their  faults,  and  eafily  led  back 
to  regularity,  order,  piety,  and  virtue. 

Here  then  is  unqueftionably  the  difference  of  natural 
conllitution  contended  for.  But  what  is  the  true  infer- 
ence ?  Is  it  that  thofe  whofe  difpofitions  are  the  wcrju:  are 
to  give  themfelves  up  fur  loft,  are  to  abandon  all  hopes 
of  falvaticn,  and  to  alledge  their  depraved  nature  as  a 
faff.cient  apology  for  infidelity  or  vice,  as  confututing  a 
complete  inability  either  to  believe  or  to  obey  the  Gofpel  ? 
No  fuch  thing.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  a  llrong  and  pow- 
erful call,  firft  upon  their  parents  and  the  guides  of  their 
youth,  and  afterwards  upon  themfelves,  to  \^^tch  over, 
to  refirain,  to  ccrredt,  to  amend,  to  meliorate  their  evil 
difpofitions,  and  to  fupply,-  by  attention,  by  difcipline 
and  by  prayer,  what  has  been  denied  by  nature.  It  may 
be  thought  hard,  perhaps,  that  all  this  care,  and  labor, 
and  painful  conflict,-  mould  be  necefTary  to  fome,  and  not 
(in  the  fame  degree  at  leaft)  to  others  ;  and  that  fo  marked 
a  difdnclion  in  fo  important  a  point  fliould  be  made  be- 
tween creatures  of  the  famle  fpecies.  But  is  not  the  fame 
diilin^ticn  made  in  other  points  of  importance?  Are  not 
men  placed  from  tlieir  very  birtli  by  the  hand  of  Provi- 
dence in  different  fituations  of  rank,  power,  wealth  ?  Are 
02 


186  LECTURE     XIT. 

not  fome  Indulged  with  every  advantage,  every  bleffing' 
that  their  hearts  can  wiih,  and  others  funk  in  obfcurity, 
penury,  and  vi^retchednefs  ?  Are  not  fome  favored  with 
the  moft  fplendid  talents  and  capacities  for  acquiring 
knowledge  ;  others  flow  in  conception,  weak  in  under- 
ftanding,  and  alraoft  impenetrable  to  inftrudlion  ?  Are 
not  fome  bleffed  from  their  birth  v/ith  flrong,  healthy, 
robuft  conftitutions,  fubjedt  to  no  infirmities,  no  difeafes ; 
others  weak,  fickly,  tender,  liable  to  perpetual  diforders, 
and  with  the  utmoft  difficulty  dragging  on  a  precarious 
exiftence  ?  Yet  does  this  preclude  all  thefe  different  individ- 
uals from  improving  their  condition  ;  does  it  prevent  the 
lowed  member  of  fociety  from  endeavoring  to  raife  him- 
felf  into  a  faperior  clafs  ;  does  it  prevent  the  moft  indigent 
from  laboring  to  acquire  a  fortune  by  induftry,  frugality, 
and  activity  ;  does  it  prevent  the  moft  ignorant  from  culti- 
vating their  minds,  and  furnifhing  them  with  fome  degree 
of  knowledge  ;  does  it  prevent  thofe  of  the  tendereft  and 
moft  delicate  frames  from  ftrengthening,  confirming,  and 
invigorating  their  health,  by  management,  by  medicine, 
and  by  temperance  ?  We  fee  the  contrary  every  day  ;  we 
fee  all  thefe  different  characters  fucceeding  in  their  efforts 
beyond  their  moft  fanguine  expediations,  and  rifmg  to  a 
degree  of  opulence,  of  rank,  of  power,  of  learning,  and 
of  health,  of  which  at  their  outfet  they  could  not  have 
formed  the  moft  diftant  idea.  And  why  then  are  we  not 
to  ad  in  the  fame  manner  with  regard  to  our  natural  tem- 
pers, difpofitions,  prepenfities,  and  inclinations  ?  Why  are 
we  not  to  fuppofe  the?n  as  capable  of  improvement  and 
melioration  as  our  condition,  our  fortune,  our  intelledlual 
powers,  and  our  bodily  health  ?  Why  are  we  to  alledge 
impoffibility  in  one  cafe  more  than  in  the  others  ?  The 
truth  is,  that  a  bad  conftitution  of  mind  as  well  as  of  body 
may,  by  proper  care  and  attention,  and  the  powerful  in- 
fluences of  the  Holy  Spirit,  be  greatly,  if  not  v/holly, 
amended.  And  as  it  fometimes  happens  that  they  who 
have  the  weakeft  and  moft  diftempered  frames  by  means 
of  an  exafc  regimen  and  an  unftiaken  perfeverance  in  rule 
and  method,  outlive  thofe  of  a  robufter  make  and  more 
luxuriant  health ;  fo  there  are  abundant  inftances  where 
men  of  the  moft  perverfe  difpofitions  and  moft  depraved 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E    XIL  187 

turn  of  mind,  by  keeping  a  ileady  guard  upon  their  weak 
parts,  and  gradually,  but  continually,  correding  their 
defefts,  applying  eameftly  for  affiftance  from  above,  go- 
ing on  from  ftrength  to  ftrength,  and  from,  one  degree  of 
perfe<n:ion  to  another,  have  at  length  aiTived  at  a  higher 
pitch  of  virtue  than  thofe  for  whom  nature  had  done  much, 
more,  and  who  would  therefore  do  but  little  for  themfelves. 

Let  us  then  never  defpair.  If  we  have  not  from:  ccn- 
fiitution  that  honed;  and  good  heart  which  is  necefTary  for 
receiving  the  good  feed,  and  bringeth  forth  fruit  with  pa- 
tience, we  may  by  degrees,  and  by  the  bleilmg  of  God^ 
gradually  acquire  it.  'If  the  foil  is  not  originally  goods^, 
it  may  be  made  fo  by  labor  and  cultivation  ;  but  above  all, 
by  imploring  our  heavenly  Father  to  fhower  down  upon  it 
the  plentiful  elfiifions  of  his  grace,  v/hich  he  has  promifed 
to  all  that  devoutly  and  fervently  and  conflantly  pray  for  it. 
This  dew  from  heaven,  "  ilied  abroad  on  our  hearts*," 
will  refreih  and  invigorate  and  purify  our  fouls  ;  will  cor- 
reifl  tlie  very  worft  difpofition  ;  will  foften  and  fubdue  the 
hardeft  and  moft  ungrateful  foil,  will  make  clean  and  pure 
and  moift,  fit  for  the  reception  of  the  good  feed  ;  and  not- 
withftanding  its  original  poverty  and  barrennefs,  will  en- 
rich it  with  ftrength  and  vigor  fuffieient  to  bring  forth  fruit 
to  perfeflion. 

I  have  nov7  finifhed  thefe  Leftures  for  the  prefent  year^. 
and  muft,  on  tliis  occafion,  again  entreat  you.  to  let  thofe 
truths,  to  which  you  have  liftened  Vv'ith  fo  much  patience 
and  pei-feverance,  take  entire  poileffion  of  your  hearts* 
They  are  not  vain,  they  are  not  trivial  things,  they  are 
the  words  of  eternal  life ;  they  relate  to  the  moft  im.por- 
tant  of  all  human  concerns,  to  the  moft!  efiential  interefts 
and  comforts  of  the  prefent  life,  and  to  the  deftiny,  tlie 
eternal  deftiny  of  happinels  or  rnifery  that  awaits  you  ia 
tile  next. 

You  have  juft  heard  the  parable  of  the  fower  explained, 
and  it  behoves  you  to  confider  in  which  of  the  four  claf^ 
fes.  of  men  there  defcribed  you  can  fairly  rank  yourfelves, 

*  Rom,  y.  T- 


'i53  LECTURE     Xii. 

Are  you  in  the  number  of  thofe  that  receive  the  feed  by 
the  way-fide,  on  hearts  as  impenetrable  and  inacceflible 
to  conviction  as  the  hard  beaten  high  road  ?  or  of  thofe 
that  receive  the  feed  on  a  little  locfe  earth  fcattered  on  a 
rock,  where  it  quickly  fprings  up,  and  as  quickly  withers 
away  ?  pr  of  thofe  in  whom  the  feed  is  choked  with  thorns, 
with  the  occupations  and  pleafures  of  this  life  ?  or,  laflly, 
of  thofe  who  receive  the  feed  on  good  ground,  on  an  hon- 
eil  and  good  heart,  and  bring  forth  fruit,  fome  a  hundred 
fold,  fome  fixty,  fome  thirty  ?  It  becomes  every  one  of 
you-  to  aik  yourfelves  this  queflion  very,  ferioufly,  and  to 
anfwer  it  very 'honeftly  ;  for  on  that  depends  the  whole 
color  of  your  future  condition  here  and  hereafter. 

There  are  none  I  truft  here  prefent,  there  are  few  I  be- 
lieve in  this  country,  who  fall  under  the  lirft  defcription  of 
profeffed  and  hardened  unbelievers  ;  and  amidft  many 
painful  circumftances  of  thefe  awful  and  anxious  times  it 
is  fome  confolation  to  us  to  refledl,  that  tlie  incredible  pains 
which  have  been  taken  in  a  multitude  of  vile  publications 
to  induce'  the  people  of  this  country  to  apoftatize  from 
their  religion,  have  not  made  that  general  and  permanent 
impreffion  on  their  minds  which  might  naturally  have 
been  expelled  from  fuch  malignant  and  reiterated  efforts 
to  fhake  their  principles  and  fubvert  theif  faith.  But  there 
are  other  inftruments  of  perverfion  and  corruption,  much 
more  formidable  and  more  powerful  than  thefe.  There 
are  rank  and  noxious  v^^eeds  and  thorns,  which  grow  up* 
with  tlie  good  leed  and  choke  it,  and  prevent  it  from  com- 
ing to  maturity.  Thefe  are,  as  the  parable  tells  us,  tjie 
cares,  the  riches,  and  the  pleafures  of  this  world,  v/hicl*. 
in  our  paifage  through  life  lay  hold  upon  our  hearts,  and 
are  more  dangerous  obftrudions  to  the  Gofpel  than  all  the 
fpeculative  arguments  and  fpecious  fophiftry  of  all  its  ad- 
verfaries  put  together.  It  is  but  feldom,  I  believe,  com- 
paratively fpeaking,  that  men  are  fairly  reafoned  out  of 
their  religion.  But  they  are  very^  frequently  feduced,  both 
from  the  pradice  and  the  belief  of  it,  by  treacherous  paf- 
fions  within,  and  violent  temptations  from  without,  by 
•*  the  luft  of  the  flefli,  the  lull  of  the  eye,  and  the  pride 
of  life."     Thef:  are  in  fa^fl  the  niofl  common,  the  moH 


LECTURE     XII.  '     189 

l^cvv-erful  enemies  of  cur  faith.  Thefe  are  the  weeds  and 
the  thcms  that  twift  therafelves  round  every  fibre  of  our 
hearts,  which  impede  the  growtli  and  deftroy  the  fniitful- 
nefs  of  every  good  principle  that  has  been  implanted  there, 
and  form  tliat  third  and  moll:  numerous  clafs  of  hearers 
defcribed  in  the  parable  of  the  fower,  who,  though  not 
profeiTed  infidels,  are  yet  pradtlcal  unbelievers,  and  who 
though  they  retain  'the  form,  have  loil  all  the  fubdance, 
all  the  power,  all  tlie  life  and  foul  of  religion. 

It  is  then  againil  thefe  moll  dangerous  corruptors  of 
our  fidelity  and  allegiance  to  our  heavenly  Mailer,  that 
we  muft  principally  be  upon  our  guard  ;  it  is  againft  thefe 
we  muft  arm  and  prepare  our  fouls,  by  fammoning  all  our 
fortitude  and  refolution,  and  calling  in  to  cur  aid  all  thofe 
fpiritual  fuccors  which  the  power  of  prayer  can  draw  dov/n 
upon  us  from  above.  It  was  to  aifill;  us  in  this  arduous 
confli(5l  that  die  compilers  of  our  liturgy  appointed  the 
feafon  of  Lent,  and  more  particularly  tlie  offices  of  the 
concluding  week,  which,  from  the  fufferings  of  our  Sav- 
iour at  that  time,  we  call  Pajjlon  lusd.  It  was  thought, 
and  furely  it  was  wifely  thought,  by  our  anceftor?,  that 
to  fortify  ourfelves  againft  the  attractions  of  the  world, 
and  the  fedu6tions  of  fm,  it  was  necefTar}'-  to  withdraw 
ourfelves  fometimes  from  the  tumultuous  and  intoxicating 
fcenes  of  bufinefs  and  of  pleafure,  which,  in  the  daily 
commerce  of  life,  prefs  fo  clofe  on  every  fide  of  us  ;  and 
to  ftrengthen  and  confirm  our  minds  againft  their  fatal  iur 
fluence,  by  retirement,  by  recolledlion,  by  felf-commun- 
ion,  by  felf-examination,  by  meditating  on  the  vrord  of 
God,  and,  above  all,  by  frequent  and  fervent  prayer. 
To  give  us  time  for  thefe  facred  occupations,  a  fmall  por- 
tion of  every  year  has  been  judicioufly  fet  apart  for  them 
by  our  church ;  and  what  time  could  be  fo  proper  for  thofe 
holy  purpofes,  as  that  in  which  our  bleffed  Lord  was  fuf- 
fering  fo  much  for  our  fakes  ?  I  allude  more  particularly 
to  that  folemn  v/eek  which  is  now  approaching,  and  to 
which  I  muft  beg  to  call  the  nic^  ferious  attention  of  every 
one  here  prefent. 

In  that  week  all,  public  diverfions  are,  as  you  well  know, 
wifely  prohibited  by  public  authority  j  and-  in  conformity 


190  L  ^  C  T  U  R  E    XII. 

to  the  fpirit  of  fuch  prohibition,  we  fhould,  even  in  onr 
own  families  and  in  our  own  private  amufements,  be  tem- 
perate, modeft,  decorous,  and  difcreet.  Think  not,  how- 
ever, that  -I  am  here  recommending  ^loom  and  melancho^ 
ly,  and  a  feclufion  from  all  fociety ;  far  from  it.  This 
could  anfwer  no  other  purpofe  but  to  four  your  minds  and 
to  deaden  your  devotions.  The  cheerfulnefs  of  fecial  con- 
verfe  and  friendly  intercourfe  is  by  no  means  mconfiftent 
with  the  duties  of  the  week  ;  but  all  thofe  tumultuous 
eflemblies,  which  are  too  ftrongly  marked  with  an  air  of 
levity,  gaiety,  and  diffipation,  and  may  in  fadt  be  ranked 
with  the  number  o£ public  diverfions,  are  plainly  repugnant 
to  that  ferioufnefs  and  tendernefs  of  mind,  which  the  aw- 
ful and  intcrefting  events  of  that  week  muft  naturally  in- 
fpire.  Let  me  only  requeft  you  to  read  over,  when  you 
return  home,  that  plain,  fimple,  unaifedted,  yet  touching 
narrative  of  our  Saviour's  fufFerings,  which  is  fele(51:ed 
from  the  Gofpels,  in  the  daily  offices  of  the  next  week  ; 
and  then  afk  your  own  hearts  whether,  at  the  very  time 
when  your  Redeemer  is  fuppofed  to  have  pafTed  through 
all  thofe  dreadful  fcenes  for  your  fakes  and  for  your  falva- 
tion,  from  his  firft  agony  in  the  garden,  to  his  laft  expir- 
ing groan  upon  the  crofs,  whether  at  this  very  time  you 
can  bring  yourfelves  to  purfue  the  pleafures,  the  vanities, 
and  the  follies  of  the  world,  with  the  fame  unqualified  ea- 
gernefs  and  unabated  ardour  as  if  nothing  had  happened 
which  had  given  him  the  flighted  pain,  or  in  which  you 
had  the  fmalleft  intereft  or  concern.  Your  hearts,  I  am 
fure,  will  revolt  at  the  very  idea,  and  your  own  feelings 
will  preferve  you  from  thus  wontonly  fporting  with  the 
crofs  of  Chrift.  And  if  from  a  prudent  abftinence  from 
thefe  things  your  were  to  add  a  careful  enquiry  into  your 
paft  conduit,  and  the  prefent  ftate  of  your  fouls,  if  you 
were  to  extend  your  views  to  another  world,  and  confider 
what  your  condition  there  is  likely  to  be  ;  what  reafonable 
grounds  you  have  to  hope  for  a  favorable  fentence  from 
your  Almighty  Judge  ;  how  far  you  have  conformed  to 
the  commands  of  your  Maker,  and  what  degree  of  affec- 
tion and  gratitude  you  have  manifefted  for  the  inexprcffi- 
ble  kindnefs  of  your  Redeemer  ;  this  furely  would  be  an 
employment  not  inconfiftent  with  your  neceffary  occupa- 


LECTURE    XIL  191 

tions,  and  not  unfuitable  to  humble  candidates  for  pardon, 
acceptance,  and  Immortal  happinefs. 

Is  this  too  great  a  burden  to  be  impofed  upon  us  for  a 
few  days  ;  is  it  too  great  a  facrifice  of  our  tim.e,  our 
thoughts  and  our  amufements  to  an  invifible  world  and  a 
reverfionary  inheritance  of  ineftimable  value  ?  It  certainly 
is  if  the  gofpel  be  all  a  fabricated  tale.  But  if  it  contain 
the  words  of  fobernefs  and  truth  ;  if  its  divine  authority  is 
eftablllhed  by  fuch  an  accumulation  of  evidence  of  various 
kinds  as  never  before  concurred  to  prove  any  other 
facls  or  events  In  the  hlftory  of  the  world,  by  eviden- 
ces fpringing  from  different  fources,  yet  all  centering  in 
the  fame  point,  and  converging  to  the  fame  conclufion  ; 
if  even  the  few  incidental  proofs  that  have  been  offered  to 
your  confideratlon  In  the  courfe  of  thefe  Le<5lures  have  pro- 
duced that  convldion  in  your  minds  which  they  feem  to 
have  done,  what  then  is  the  confequeuce  ?  Is  It  not  that 
truths  of  fuch  infinite  importance  well  deferve  all  that  con- 
fideratlon for  which  I  am  now  contending ;  and  that  we 
ought  to  embrace  with  eagernefs  every  appointed  means 
and  every  favorable  opportunity  that  is  thrown  in  our 
way,  of  demonftrating  our  attachment  and  our  gratitude 
to  a  crucified  Saviour,  who  died  for  our  fms  and  rofe 
again  for^ur  juftlfication,  and  will  come  once  more  in 
glory  to  judge  the  world  in  righteoufnefs,  and  to  diftrlbute 
his  rewards  and  punifhments  to  all  the  nations  of  the  earth 
affembled  before  him  ?  At  that  awful  tribunal  may  we  all 
appear  with  a  humble  confidence  In  the  merits  of  our  Re- 
deemer, and  a  trembling  hope  of  that  mercy  which  he 
has  promifed  to  every  fmcere  believer,  every  truly  contrite 
and  penitent  offender  I 


..<.•<■.<•■<•<••<■•<■■<••<■•<•<••<••■<■<■•<•••<•<••<•■<••<••<••<■•<>■■>•■>••>•■>•>■•>■>•■>•>••>•>••>••>••>■■>•>•>■■>■>•■>■•>■' 


LECTURE     XIIL 


MATTHEW  xili'.  continued. 


T 


HE  Lectures  of  the  laft  year  concluded  with 
an  explanation  of  the  parable  of  the  fower ;  and  immedi- 
ately after  this  follows  in  the  Gofpel  the  parable  of  the 
tares,  which  will  be  the  fubje(5l  of  our  prefent  confidera- 
tion*. 

The  parable  is  as  follows :  "  The  kingdom  of  heaven 
is  likened  unto  a  man  which  fowed  good  feed  in  his  field  ; 
but  while  men  flept,  his  enemy  came  and  fowed  tares 
among  the  wheat,  and  went  his  way.  But  when  the 
blade  was  fprung  up,  and  brought  forth  fruit,  then  ap- 
peared the  tares  alfo.  So  the  fervants  of  the  houfeholder 
came  and  faid  unto  him,  Sir,  didft  thou  not  fow  good 
feed  in  tliy  field  ;  from  whence  then  hath  it  tares  ?  He 
faid  unto  them,  an  enemy  hath  done  this.  The  fervants 
faid  unto  him,  wilt  thou  tlien  that  we  go  and  gather  them 
up.  But  he  faid  nay,  left  while  ye  gather  up  the  tares» 
ye  root  up  alfo  the  wheat  with  them.  Let  both  grow 
together  unto  the  harveft  ;  and  in  the  time  of  harveft  I 
will  fay  to  the  reapers,  gather  ye  together  firft  the  tares, 
and  bind  them  up  in  bundles  to  bum  them,  but  gather 
the  wheet  into  my  barn." 

After  our  Lord  had  delivered  his  parable,  and  one  or 
two  more  very  Ihort  ones,  we  are  told  that  he  fent  the 
multitude  away,  and  went  into  the  houfe ;  and  his  difci- 
ples  came  unto  him  faying,  "  Declare  unto  us  the  parable 
of  the  tares  of  the  field.  He  anfwered  and  faid  unto 
them,  he  that  foweth  the  good  feed  is  the  Son  of  man. 
The  field  is  the  world ;  the  good  feed  are  the  children  of 
the  kingdom,  but  the  tares  are  the  children  of  the  wicked 

*  Matth.  xiii.  34. 
P 


194^  LECTURE     XIII, 

one.  Tlie  enemy  that  fowed  them  is  the  devil.  The  har- 
veft  is  the  end  of  the  world,  and  the  reapers  are  the  an- 
gels. As  tlierefore  the  tares  are  gathered  and  burned  in 
the  fire,  fo  fhall  it  be  in  the  end  of  this  world.  The  Son 
of  man  fhall  fend  forth  his  angels,  and  they  {hall  gather 
out  of  his  kingdom  all  things  that  offend,  and  them  which 
do  iniquit;f,  and  fiiall  caft  them  into  a  furnace  of  fire, 
there  fhall  be  weeping  and  gnafning  of  teeth.  Then  fhall 
the  righteous  fliine  forth  as  the  lim  in  the  kingdom  of  their 
Father:  who  hath  ears  to  hear  let  him  hear." 

This  parable  well  deferves  our  mofl:  ferlous  confidera- 
tion,  as  it  gives  an  anfwer  to  tvfo  quePcions  of  gren.t  cu- 
riofity  and  great  importance,  which  have  exercifed  the 
ingenuity  and  agitated  the  minds  of  thinking  men  from 
the  earlieft  times  to  the  prefent,  and  perhaps  were  never, 
at  any  period  of  the  world,  more  interefting  than  at  this 
very  hour. 

Tlie  £rft  of  thcfe  queflions  is,  how  came  moral  evil 
into  the  world  ? 

The  next  is,  why  it  is  fuffered  to  remain  a  fmglc  mo- 
ment ;  and  wh]''  is  not  every  wicked  man  immediately 
puniflied  as  he  deferves  ? 

The  firft  of  thefe  queflions  has,  we  know,  in  almoft  all 
ages,  and  in  all  countries,  been  a  conflant  fubje(5t  of  in- 
veftigation  and  controverfy  among  metaphyficians  and 
theologians,  and  has  given  birth  to  an  infinity  of  fanciful 
theories  and  fyftems,  to  one  more  particularly  in  our  own 
times,  by  a  miin  of  very  diflinguifhed  talents*  ;  all  which 
however  have  failed  of  folving  the  diihculty,  and  have 
proved  nothing  more  than  this  mortifying  and  humil- 
iating truth,  namely,  the  extreme  weaknefs  of  the  hu- 
man intellcift,  when  applied  to  fubjedls  fo  far  above  its 
reach,  and  the  utter  inalDllity  of  m.an  to  fathom  the  coun- 
fels  of  the  Moft  High,  and  to  develop  the  myflerlous  ways 
•of  his  providence,  by  the  folc  flrength  of  unafTifted  rea- 

*  Soame  Jenyns. 


LECTURE     XIIL  195 

foil*.  That  thofe  who  were  never  favored  with  the  light 
of  revelation  ftiould  indulge  themfelves  in  fuch  abftrufe 
fpeculations,  can  be  no  great  wonder,  but  that  they  who 
have  accefs  to  tlie  original  fountain  of  truth,  and  can  draw 
from  that  facred  fource  the  moft  authentic  information  on 
this  point,  fhould  have  recourfe  to  the  fallible  conjedluros 
of  human  ingenuity,  and  fhould  hew  out  to  themfelves 
"  cifterns,  broken  cifterns,  that  can  hold  no  water,"  is  a 
moft  unaccountable  error  of  judgment,  and  a  ftrange 
miifapplication  of  talents,  and  wafte  of  labor  and  of  timxe. 
We  are  told  in  tlie  very  beginning  of  the  Bible,  that  he 
who  firft  brought  fm  or  moral  evil  into  the  world,  was 
that  great  adverfary  of  the  human  race,  the  devil,  who 
firft  tempted  the  woman,  and  flie  the  man,  to  ad  in  di- 
re<5l  contradidion  to  the  commands  of  their  Maker. 

This  a6t  of  difobedience  deftroyed  at  once  that  inno- 
cence and  purity  and  integrity  of  mind,  with  which  they 
came  out  of  the  hands  of  their  Creator  ;  gave  an  hnme- 
diate  and  dreadful  Ihock  to  their  whole  moral  frame,  and 
introduced  into  it  all  thofe  corrupt  propenfities  and  difor- 
dered  paffions  which  they  bequeathed  as  a  fatal  legacy  to 
their  defcendants  ;  of  which  we  all  now  feel  the  bitter 
fruits,  and  have,  I  fear,  by  our  own  perfonal  and  volun- 
tary tranfgreflions,  not  a  little  improved  the  wretched  in- 
heritance we  received  from  our  anceftors.  This  is  the  true 
origin  of  moral  evil ;  and  it  is  exprefsly  confirmed  by  our 
Saviour  in  the  parable  before  us  ;  in  which,  when  the  fer- 
vants  of  the  houfeholder  exprefs  their  furprife  at  finding 
tares  among  the  wheat,  and  afk  whence  they  came,  his 
aiifwer  is,  a?i  enemy  hath  done  this  ;  and  that  enemy  our 
our  Lord  informs  us  is  the  devil ;  that  inveterate  implaca- 
ble enemy  (as  the  very  name  of  Satan  imports)  of  the 
human  race,  the  original  autlior  of  all  our  calamities,  and 

*  Among  the  dilTertations  of  Plutarch  (which  go  by  the  name  of 
his  morals,)  there  is  a  very  curious  and  ingenious  one,  \x\X.\t\c6 peri  ten 
upo  iou  the'iou  bradeos  timdroumeiwn,  concerning  tliofe  whom  the  Deity  is 
How  in  punifhjng.  In  tliis,  among  other  juft  rem.arks,  he  obferves, 
"  that  many  things  which  great  generals,  and  legiflators,  and  ftatef- 
men  do,  are  to  common  obfervers  incomprehenfible.  What  wonder 
is  it  then,  Tays  he,  if  we  cannot  underftand  why  the  gods  infiivft  pun- 
ifliment  on  the  wicked,  fometimcs  at  an  earlier,  fometimes  at  a  later 
period?  Plut.  Ed.   Xyland.  v.  %,  p.  549-     F. 


196  LECTURE     XIII. 

at  this  moment  the  prime  mover  and  great  mafter-fpring 
of  all  the  wickednefs  and  all  the  mifery  that  now  over- 
whelm the  world. 

To  this  accomit  great  objections  have  been  made,  and 
no  fmall  pains  taken  to  confute,  to  expofe,  and  to  ridicule 
it.  But  after  all  the  wit  and  buffoonery  which  have  been 
lavifhed  upon  it,  it  may  fafely  be  affirmed,  and  might 
eafily  be  fhown,  -that  it  ftands  on  firmer  ground,  and  is 
encumbered  with  fewer  difficulties  than  any  other  hypothe- 
fis  that  has  been  yet  propofcd. 

But  ftill,  as  I  have  already  obferved,  there  rem.ains 
another  very  important  queftion  to  be  anfv/ered.  Why  is 
the  wickednefs  of  man,  from  whatever  fource  it  fprings, 
fuffered  to  pafs  unobferved  and  unpuniflied  by  the  Judge 
of  all  the  earth  ?  Why  is  not  the  bold  offender  ftopped 
ffiort  in  his  career  of  vice  and  iniquity  ?  Wliy  is  he  permit- 
ted to  go  on  triuniphantly,  without  any  obflacle  to  his 
wiflies,  to  infult,  opprefs,  and  harafs  the  virtuous  and  the 
good,  without  the  lead  check  or  control,  and,  as  it  were 
to  brave  the  vengeance  of  the  Almighty,  and  fet  at  nought 
the  great  Governor  of  the  world  ?  Why,  in  fhort,  in  the 
language  of  the  parable,  are  the  tares  allowed  to  grow  up 
unmolefted  with  the  wheat,  to  choke  its  vigour  and  im- 
pede its  growth  ?  Why  are  they  not  plucked  up  inftantly 
with  an  indignant  hand,  and  thrown  to  the  dung-hill,  or 
committed  to  the  flames  ? 

This  has  been  a  moft  grievous  "  Humbling  ftone,  a 
rock  of  offence,"  not  only  to  the  unthinking  crowd,  but  to 
men  of  ferious  thought  and  refledlion  in  every  age ;  and 
fcarce  any  thing  has  more  perplexed  and  difturbed  the 
minds  of  the  good,  or  given  more  encouragement  or  au- 
dacity  to  the  bad,  than  the  little  notice  that  feems  to  be 
taken  of  the  moil  enormous  crimes,  and  the  little  dii- 
tinaion  that  is  apparently  made  between  "  the  wheat  and 
the  tares,  between  the  righteous  and  the  wicked,  betv%rcen 
him  that  fcrveth  God  and  him  that  ferveth  him  not." 

The  reflediions  which  thefe  myfterious  proceedings  are 
apt  to  excite  even  in  the  bell  and  humblcft  of  men,  are 


LECTURE     XIII.  197 

moft  inimitably  exprefTed  by  the  royal  Pfalmift  in  the  73d 
Pfalm,  where  you  fee  all  the  different  turns  and  workings 
of  his  mind  laid  open  without  difguife,  and  all  the  various 
ideas  and  fentiments  that  fueceffively  took  poffeilion  of  his 
foul  in  the  progrefs  of  his  enquir)^,  defcribed  in  the  moil 
natural  and  affeding  manner.  "  Truly,  fays  he  (with 
that  piety  which  conftantly  infpires  him)  God  is  loving  to 
Ifrael ;  even  unto  fuch  as  are  of  a  clean  heart ;  nevertlie- 
lefs  my  feet  were  almoft  gone  ;  my  treadings  had  well  nigh 
flipped.  And  why  ?  I  was  grieved  at  the  wicked  ;  I  do 
alfo  fee  the  ungodly  in  fuch  profperity.  For  tliey  are  in 
no  peril  of  death,  but  are  lufty  and  ftrong.  They  coma 
in  no  misfortune  like  other  folk  ;  neither  are  they  plagued 
like  other  men.  And  this  is  the  caufe,  that  they  are  fo 
holden  with  pride,  and  overwhelmed  with  cruelty.  Their 
eyes  fwell  with  fatnefs,  and  they  do  even  what  they  luft. 
They  corrupt  other,  and  fpeak  of  wicked  blafphemy ; 
their  talking  is  againft  the  Moft  High.  Tufh,  fay  they, 
how  lliould  God  perceive  it ;  is  there  knowledge  in  the 
Moft  High  ?  Lo,  thefe  are  the  ungodly.  Thefe  profper 
in  the  world,  and  thefe  have  riches  in  pofTeffion.  And  I 
faid,  then  I  have  cleanfed  my  heart  in  vain,  and  waflied 
my  hands  in  innocency  l^'' 

Sentiments  fuch  as  thefe  are,  I  believe,  what  many 
good  men  have  found  occafionally  rifmg  in  their  minds, 
on  obferving  the  profperity  of  the  worthlefs  part  of  man- 
kind. But  never  were  they  before  fo  beautifully  and  fo 
feelingly  exprefled  as  in  this  pafTage.  Thefe  complaints, 
however,  foon  pafs  away  with  men  of  pious  difpofitions, 
and  end  in  meek  fubmiffion  to  the  will  of  Heaven.  But 
not  fo  with  the  wicked  and  profane.  By  them  the  for- 
bearance of  Heaven  towards  fmners  isfometimes  pervert- 
ed to  the  very  worft  purpofes,  and  made  ufe  of  as  an  ar- 
gument to  encourage  and  confirm  them  in  the  career  of 
vice.  This  effed:  is  well  and  accuraOely  defcribed  in  the 
book  of  Ecclefiaftes.  "  Becaufe  fentence  againft  an  evil 
Vv^ork  is  not  executed  fpeedily,  therefore  the  hearts  of  the 
fons  of  men  are  fully  fet  in  them  to  do  evil*." 

*  Eccles.  viii,  ii. 


198  LECTURE     XIII. 

It  was  to  obviate  thefe  fatal  ronfequences,  as  well  as  to 
give  fupport  and  confolation  to  the  good,  that  our  Lord 
delivered  this  parable  of  the  tares  and  the  wheat,  which 
will  enable  us  to  folve  the  arduous  queftion  above-men- 
tioned, arifmg  from  the  impunity  and  profperity  of  the 
wicked,  and  to  vindicate  in  this  inftance  the  ways  of  God 
to  man. 

But  before  I  begin  to  flate  and  explain  the  reafons  of 
that  forbearance  and  lenity  towards  fmners,  which  is  fo 
much  objefted  to  in  the  divine  adminillration  of  the  world, 
I  mull  take  notice  of  one  very  mateiial  circumllance  in 
the  cafe,  which  is,  that  the  evil  complained  of  is  greatly 
magnified,  and  reprefented  to  be  much  more  generally 
prevalent  than  it  really  is.  The  fad:  is,  that  although 
punifliment  does  not  alivays  overtake  the  wicked  in  this 
life,  yet  it  falls  upon  them  more  frequently  and  heavily 
than  we  are  aAvare  of.  They  are  often  puniflied  when  we 
do  not  obferve  it ;  but  they  are  alfo  fometimes  pi.milhed  in 
the  mod  public  and  confpicuous  manner. 

The  very  firfl  offence  committed  by  man  after  the  cre- 
ation of  the  world  v^as,  as  v^e  know  to  our  coft,  followed 
by  immediate  and  exemplary  punifhment.  The  next  great 
criminal,  Cain,  was  rendered  a  fugitive  and  a  vagabond 
upon  earth,  and  held  up  as  an  objed:  of  execration  and 
abhorrence  to  mankind.  When  the  whole  earth  was  funk 
in  wickednefs,  it  was  overwhelmed  by  a  deluge.  The 
abominations  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  were  avenged  by 
lire  from  heaven.  The  tyrant  Pliaraoh  and  his  hoft  were 
drowned  in  the  Red  Sea.  Koran,  Dathan,  and  Abiram, 
and  their  rebellious  companions,  v/ere  buried  alive  in  the 
bowels  of  the  earth.  It  was  for  their  portentous  vv  icked- 
nefs  and  favage  pradices  that  the  Canaanite  nations  were 
exterminated  by  the  Ifraelites  ;  and  it  was  for  their  idola- 
tries, their  licentioufnefs,  and  their  rebellions  againfl  God, 
that  the  Ifraelites  themfelves  were  repeatedly  driven  into 
exile,  reduced  to  fiavery,  and  at  length  their  city,  their 
tcnjple,  and  their  whole  civil  polity  utterly  deftroyed,  and 
themfelves  fcattered  and  difperfed  over  every  part  of  the 
known  world,  and  every  where  treated  with  derifion  and 


LECTURE     Xni.  i^J» 

contempt.  It  will  be  faid,  perhaps,  that  thefe  were  the 
confequences  of  the  peculiar  theocratic  form  of  their  gov=.- 
emment,  under  which  the  rew^ards  and  the  punifhments 
were  temporal  and  immediate,  and  that  they  are  not  to  be 
expe^fred  in  the  prefent  ftate  of  human  affairs.  Still  how- 
ever they  are  proofs,  and  tremendous  proofs,  that  God  is 
not  an  inattentive  and  unconcerned  fpedcator  of  hum.an 
wickednefs.  But  let  us  come  to  our  own  times,  and  to 
the  fates  and  fortunes  of  individuals  under  our  own  ob- 
fervation.  Do  we  not  continually  fee  that  they  who  in- 
dulge their  paffions  without  control,,  and  give  an  unbound- 
ed loofe  to  ever/  corrupt  propenfity  of  their  hearts,  are 
fooner  or  later  the  vidims  of  their  own  intemperance  and 
licentioufnefs  ?  Do  they  not  madly  facrifice  to  the  love  of 
pleafure,  and  frequently  v/ithin  a  very  fhort  fpace  of  time, 
their  health,  their  fortune,  their  chara<5lers,  their'peace  of 
mind,  and  that  too  completely  and  effecflually,  and  be- 
yond all  hopes  of  recovery  ?  The  inftances  of  this  are 
many  and  dreadful,  without  taking  into  the  account  fuch 
flagrant  crimes  as  deliver  men  over  into  the  hands  of  pub- 
lic juftice.  Now  what  is  all  this  but  the  fentence  of  God 
fpeedily  executed  againft  evil  works  ?  It  may  be  alledged, 
tliat  thefe  are  only  the  natural  confequences  of  wrong  con- 
dud:,  and  not  the  immediate  judicial  infliftions  of  Heaven. 
But  who  is  it  that  has  made  thefe  evils  the  natural  confe- 
quences of  vice  ?  Who  but  the  great  Author  of  nature  ? 
He  hath  purpofely  formed  his  world  and  his  creature  man 
in  fuch  a  manner,  that  thefe  penalties  (hall  follow  clofe 
upon  wickednefs,  as  a  prefent  mark  of  his  abhorrence  and 
deteftation  of  it ;  and  they  fall  on  many  offenders,  both 
fo  fpeedily  and  fo  heavily,  that  till  fecond  thoughts  correct 
th«  firft  impreffion,  it  feems  almoft  an  impeachment  of. 
his  goodnefs  that  he  inflidls  them. 

Still  it  muft  be  confelTed  that  wickednefs  Is  fometimes 
triumphant ;  and  fo  alfo  does  folly  fometimes  meet  with 
fuccefs  in  the  world  ;  but  it  is  true  notwichftanding,  that  it 
labors  under  great  difadvantages,  and  immoral  conduct 
under  ftill  greater.  The  tiatiiral  tendency  of  fin  is  to  mif- 
ery.  Accidents  may  now  and  then  prevent  this,  but  not 
generally ;  art  and  cunning  may  evade  it>  but  not  nearly 
fo  often  as  men  imagine. 


200  LECTURE     XIII. 

But  fuppofmg  the  guilty  to  efcape  for  a  time  all  fuiGTer-^ 
ings,  and  in  confequence  of  it,  to  pleafe  themfelves  high- 
ly with  the  prudence  of  their  choice  ;  yet  ftill  punifhment> 
though  flow,  may  overtake  them  at  laft.  The  blindnefs 
of  fach  men  to  confequences  is  quite  aftoniftiing.  One 
man  evades  the  penalties  of  human  lav^^s  in  a  few  inftan- 
ces,  and  therefore  C9ncludes  he  fhall  never  be  overtaken 
by  them.  Another  preferves  his  reputation  for  a  time, 
and  thence  imagines  it  to  be  perfedly  fecure.  A  third 
finds  his  health  hold  out  a  few  years,  and  therefore  has 
not  the'leaft  fufpicion  that  what  he  is  always  undermining 
muft  fall  at  laft. 

Now  each  of  thefe  may,  if  he  pleafes,  applaud  his  own 
wifdom  ;  but  every  one  elfe  muft  fee  his  extreme  ftupidity 
and  folly.  In  fad:,  whoever  commits  fm  has  fwallowed 
poifon,  which  from  that  moment  begins  to  operate  ;  at 
firft  perhaps  by  a  pleafmg  intoxication,  afterward  by  flow 
and  uncertain  degrees,  but  ftill  the  difeafe  is  within,  and 
is  mortal ;  and  fnice  it  may  every  inftant  break  out  with 
fatal  violence,  it  is  a  melancholy  thing  to  fee  the  perfon  in- 
feded  filled  with  a  mad  joy,  which  muft  end  in  heavinefs 
and  death. 

Vice,  efpecially  of  fome  forts,  afFeds  to  wear  a  fmiling 
countenance,  and  the  days  that  are  fpent  in  it  pafs  along 
for  a  time  pleafantly  enough  ;  but  little  do  the  poor  wretch- 
es that  are  deluded  by  it  refle<5l  what  bittemefs  they  are 
treafuring  up  for  the  reft  of  life,  and  how  foon  they  m.ay 
come  to  tafte  it  in  fuch  confequences,  as  even  the  complet- 
eft  reformation,  and  the  ftricteft  care  afterwards,  will  very 
imperfedly  either  prevent  or  cure. 

After  all,  however,  it  muft  be  acknowledged,  that 
there  are  numbers  of  v/ortlilefs  and  profligate  men,  who 
go  en  for  a  confiderable  length  of  time,  perhaps  even  to 
the  end  of  their  days,  in  a  full  tide  of  worldly  profperity> 
blelfed  with  every  thing  that  is  thought  moft  valuable  in 
this  life,  wealth,  power,  rank,  health  and  ftrength,  and 
enjoying  all  thefe  advantages  without  interruption  and  al- 
loy, "  corning  in  no  misfortune  like  other  folk,  and  not 
plagued  or  affii<a:ed  like  other  rien.'* 


LECTURE     XIII.  201 

Thefe,  it  muft  be  confeffed,  are  ftrong  fymptoms  of 
happinefs,  if  we  are  to  judge  from  appearance  only.  But 
does  not  every  one  know  that  happinefs  depends  infinitely 
lefs  upon  external  circumftances  than  on  the  internal  com- 
fort, content,  and  fatisfadtion  of  the  mind  ?  May  I  not 
appeal  to  every  one  here  prefent,  whether  fome  of  the 
acuteil  fufferings,  and  the  moft  exquifite  joys  he  has  ex- 
perienced, are  not  thofe  which  are  confined  to  his  ovra 
breaft,  which  he  enjoys  in  fecrecy  and  in  filence,  in  his 
retired  and  private  moments,  unobferved  by  the  world, 
and  independent  on  ail  exterior  Ihow  ?  "  The  heart  only 
(fays  the  wife  man  moft  truly)  knov»reth  its  own  bitteniefs, 
and  a  ftranger  doth  not  intermeddle  with  its  joy*."  This 
then  is  the  ftandard  by  which  you  muft  meafure  human 
happinefs.  You  muft  not  too  haftily  conclude  that  prof- 
perity  is  felicity.  In  order  to  know  whether  thefe  men 
are  truly  what  they  fecm  to  be,  you  muft  follow  them  into 
their  retirements,  into  their  clofets,  and  to  their  couches  ; 
and  if  you  could  then  fee  the  interior  of  their  hearts,  you 
would  probably  find  them  obje<^s  rather  of  pity  than  of 
envy.  Whatever  they  may  pretend,  or  whatever  air  of 
cheerfulnefs  they  may  aflume,  it  is  utterly  irnpoftibie  that 
they,  whofe  fole  obje<5l  is  to  gratify  their  paflions  without 
the  leaft  regard  to  the  feelings  of  others  ;  who  are  cor- 
rupting all  around  them  by  their  converfation  and  their 
example,  or  fpreading  ruin,  mifery,  and  defolation  over 
the  world  by  their  inordinate  ambition  ;  who  not  only  live 
in  a  conftant  violation  of  the  commands  of  their  Maker, 
but  perhaps  even  deny  his  exiftence,  renounce  his  author- 
ity, and  treat  every  thing  ferious  and  religious  with  deri- 
fion  and  contempt :  it  is,  I  fay,  utterly  impoflible  that 
thefe  men,  whatever  external  magnificence  or  gaiety  may 
furround  them,  can  enjoy  that  peace  and  comfort  and 
content  of  mind,  which  alone  conftitutes  real  and  fub- 
ilantial  happinefs,  and  without  which  every  thing  elfe  is 
infipid  and  unfatisfadory.  A  fecret  confcioufnefs  that 
they  are  ading  wrong,  that  they  are  degrading  and  debaf- 
ing  their  nature,  and  wafting  their  time  in  mean,  unwor- 
thy, and  mifchievcus  purfuits  :  frequent  pangs  of  remorfe 

*  Prov.  xiy.  ic. 


202  LECTURE     XIII. 

for  the  irreparable  injuries  they  have  done  to  thofe  whom 
they  have  betrayed  or  opprelfed,  and  whofe  peace  and 
comfort  they  have  for  ever  deftroyed  ;  a  dread  of  that 
Almighty  Being  whom  they  have  refilled  and  infulted ;  a 
fear  of  death,  and  an  apprehenfion  of  that  punifhment 
hereafter,  v/hich,  though  they  alFe6l  to  difbeUeve  and  def- 
pife,  they  cannot  help  knowing  to  be  poffible,  and  feeling, 
that  they  deferve  ;  'all  thefe  refledtions,  which,  in  fpite  of 
their  utmoft  efforts  to  ftifle  them,  will  very  often  force 
themfelves  upon  their  minds,  are  fufficient  to  countera<5t 
every  other  advantage  they  poiTefs,  and  to  embitter  every 
enjoyment  of  their  lives.  All  fhall  look  outwardly  gay 
and  happy,  and  all  within  fhall  be  joylefs  and  gloomy. 
They  fhall  feem  to  have  every  thing  they  wifh,  and  in 
fadl,  have  nothing  that  affords  them  any  genuine  fatisfac- 
tion,  or  preferves  them  from  the  internal  wretchednefs  that 
perpetually  haunts  them.  "  God  (as  the  Pfalmift  expreff- 
es  it)  gives  them  their  hearts  defire,  and  fends  leannefs 
withal  into  their  fouls* ;"  that  is,  a  total  incapacity  of 
deriving  any  true  comfort  from  the  bleflings  they  poffefs.. 

I  am  not  here  drawing  imaginary  pi6lures  of  mifery, 
or  defcribing  fituations  v/hich  have  never  exifted  ;  I  could 
refer  you  to  well-known  examples,  which  could  amply 
confirm  the  truth  of  my  affertions,  and  would  clearly 
Ihow  that  the  profperity  of  the  wicked  is  no  proof  of  their 
happinefs  ;  that  external  calamities  and  corporeal  pains, 
acute  fufferings,  difeafe,  or  death,  are  not  the  only  inftru= 
ments  of  vengeance  which  the  Almighty  has  in  his  hand 
for  the  correction  of  fmners  ;  but  that  he  has  other  engines 
of  punifhment  far  more  terrible  than  thefe  ;  that  he  can 
plant  daggers  in  the  breaft  of  the  mofl:  triumphant  liber- 
tine ;  and  that  even  when  their  worldly  bleihngs  are  ex- 
alted, his  fecret  dart  can  pierce  their  fouls,  and  wring 
them  with  tortures  fharper  than  a  two-edged  fword,  yet 
invifible  to  every  mortal  eyef . 

*  Pfalm  cvi.  15, 

t  "  As  malefadlors,  when  they  go  to  punifhment,  carry  their  own 
crofs,  fo  wickednefs  generally  carries  its  own  torment  along  with  it, 
and  is  a  moft  (kilful  artificer  of  its  own  mifery,  filling  the  mind  with 
terror,  remorfe,  and  the  moft  agonizing  reflexion."  Plut.  Ed,  Xy- 
land.  V.  a.  p.  554.  A. 


LECTURE     XIII.         .        203 

It  appears,  therefore,  that  rmners  are  in  fa<5t  much  of- 
tener  and  much  more  feverely  punilhed  than  we  are  aware  ; 
that  God  is  even  now  exercifmg  a  moral  government  over 
the  world  ;  that  he  is  filling  them  with  the  fruits  of  their 
own  devices,  and  chaftening  them  in  a  variety  of  ways, 
not  always  difcernible  by  us  ;  adm.onifliing  fome  by  gentle 
corrections  to  fm  no  more,  left  a  worft  thing  come  unto 
them  ;  but  crufliing  fome  by  feverer  firokes,  "  that  others 
may  hear  and  fear,  and  do  no  more  any  fuch  wicked- 
nefs*." 

Still  however  it  mull  be  owned,  that  punifhment  does 
not  always  overtake  the  offender  either  fpeedily  or  imme- 
diately ;  and  therefore  I  proceed  to  Ihow,  that  when  this 
is  the  cafe,  there  are  fuflicient  reafons  for  the  delay. 

It  is  obvious  that  every  fcheme  which  comprehends  a 
great  variety  of  intentions  and  views,  cannot  permit  all 
of  them  to  be  accompliflied  at  once,  but  fome  things,  by 
no  means  to  be  omitted  entirely,  m.ull  however  be  poftpon- 
ed.  Now  fuch  a  complicated  fyftem  is  that  of  the  gov- 
ernment of  the  world,  in  which  God  may  have  many  de- 
figns  altogether  unknown  to  us  ;  and  of  thofe  which  we 
know  beft,  we  are  far  from  being  judges  which  it  is  right 
for  him  to  prefer,  whenever  they  happen  to  interferef. 
Offenders,  whom  'we  are  impatient  to  fee  punifhed  as  they 
deferve,  he  may  fee  it  expedient,  for  various  reafons,  to 
fpare.  One  of  thefe  reafons  is  given  in  the  parable  before 
us.  When  the  fervants  of  the  houfeholder  reprefented  to 
him  that  there  was  a  great  number  of  tares  intermixed 
and  growing  up  with  the  wheat,  and  ailced  whether  they 
fliould  not  go  and  root  them  up  :  his  anfwer  was,  nay  ; 
left  while  ye  gather  up  the  tares,  ye  root  up  the  wheat  al- 
fo  with  them.  The  meaning  is,  that  in  the  prefent  imper- 
fed  fcene  of  things,  the  virtuous  and  the  wicked  are  fo 

*  Deut.  sill.    II. 

f  "  It  is  as  abfurd  for  us  to  hkme  the  r^ods  for  not  punifning  the 
uicked  at  the  time  and  in  the  manner  which  wc  think  the  fitteft,  as  it 
■would  he  for  an  ignorant  clown  to  cenfure  a  phyfician  for  not  adminil- 
tering  the  mofl  feificacious  medicines  to  I;  is  patient  at  thofe  times  which 
he,  the  faid  clown,  judges  to  be  the  moil  proper."  Plut.  v.  2  p, 
549.  F. 


204  LECTURE     XIII. 

intermingled  and  fo  connected  with  each  other,  that  it  Is 
frequently  impoffible  to  punifh  the  guilty  without  involving 
the  innocent  in  their  fufferings.  In  the  cafe  oi  finful  na- 
tions, or  any  large  bodies  of  men,  this  is  very  apparent. 
It  may  happen  that  a  very  confiderable  part  of  a  great 
community  may  be  guilty  of  the  moft  enormous  crimes, 
of  oppreffion,  injuftice,  ambition,  cruelty,  murder,  and 
impiety,  and  we  are  apt  to  call  out  for  immediate  and  ex- 
emplary vengeance  on  fuch  wretches  as  thefe.  But  if  this 
vengeance  was  to  be  executed  in  all  its  extent,  if  this  peo- 
ple was  to  be  extirpated  by  fire  and  fword,  or  to  be  deftroy- 
ed  by  famine,  by  peftilence,  or  earthquake,  it  is  evident 
that  great  numbers  of  innocent  perfons  muft  perifh  in  this 
general  wreck,  and  that  the  wheat  would  be  rooted  up 
with  the  tares.  Inftead  therefore  of  cenfuring  the  difpen- 
fatlons  of  the  Almighty  in  thefe  inftances,  we  ought  to 
praife  and  adore  him  for  exercifnig  his  mercy  when  we 
fhould  have  no  compaflion,  and  for  fparing  the  wicked 
left  he  fhould  deftroy  the  righteous. 

But  though  this  reafoning  may  be  allowed  in  the  cafe  of 
guilty  nations,  yet  it  may  be  thought  not  to  hold  good 
with  refpeiS  to  Individuals.  It  may  be  alledged,  that 
fmgle  offenders  at  leafl  may  be  cut  off,  without  doing  any 
injury  to  the  innocent  or  the  virtuous.  But  Is  tliis  a  fa6l 
which  can  at  all  times  be  fafely  afTumed  ?  Is  the  criminal, 
whom  you  wifh  to  fee  chaftlfed,  a  perfedly  unconnedted, 
folltary,  and  ifolated  being  ?  Has  he  no  wife  or  children, 
no  relations,  no  dependents,  no  perfons  of  any  defcrip- 
tion,  that  look  up  to  him  for  protection,  fupport,  or  aflift- 
ance  ?  If  he  has,  are  you  fure  that  all  thefe  perfons  are  as 
worthlefs  and  as  deferving  of  corredlon  as  himfelf  ?  May 
they  not,  on  the  contrary,  be  as  eminent  in  virtue  as  he  is 
in  wickednefs  ;  or  at  the  leaft,  may  they  not  be  exempt 
from  many  of  thofe  flagrant  fms  that  call  for  Immediate 
and  exemplary  punlfhment  ?  If  fo,  would  you  have  thefe 
innocent,  and  perhaps  excellent  perfons,  involved  In  the 
ruin  of  the  great  delinquent,  on  whom  they  entirely  de- 
pend ?  Would  you  have  the  righteous  Governor  of  the 
univerfe  make  no  dIftInil:ion  in  the  Inflldlion  of  his  punlfh- 
ments  ?  Should  we  not  rather  adopt  the  pathetic  language 


LECTURE     XIII.  205 

of  Abraham,  when  he  is  pleading  with  the  Almighty  for 
Sodom  and  Gomorrah  ?  "  Wilt  thou  flay  the  righteous 
with  the  wicked  ?  That  be  far  from  thee.  Shall  not  the 
Judge  of  all  the  earth  do  right*?"  You  fee  then  that  there 
may  be  the  bed  and  moft  fubftantial  reafons  for  delaying 
the  punifliment  of  the  wicked,  both  with  refpect  to  nations 
and  individuals  ;  and  that  when  lue  are  raflily  calling  out 
for  immediate  vengeance,  the  Judge  of  all  the  earth  is 
full  of  tendernefs  and  pity,  and  fees  die  beft  reafons  for 
refpiting  even  tlie  moil  notorious  offenders. 

But  befides  this,  there  are  other  reafons  for  God's  for- 
bearance towards  fniners.  They  are  fometimes,  as  the 
prophet -expreffes  it,  the  rod  of  his  angerf.  Ke  makes  ufe 
of  them  as  inftruments  to  chaftife  each  other,  or  to  cor- 
re<5l  the  faults  of  thofe  Vv^ho  are  much  better  than  them- 
felves.  And  it  frequently  happens  that  their  punifliment 
is  only  delayed  till  they  have  completely  finiflied  the  work 
for  which  they  were  raifed  up,  and  that  then  tliey  are 
made  to  juftify  the  difpenfations  of  the  Almighty  by  the 
awful  fpeclacle  of  a  confpicuous  and  ten-ifying  fall. 

To  inftance  only  the  cafe  of  one  notorious  offender. 
That  mifcreant  Judas  Ifcariot,  long  before  he  betrayed 
his  mailer,  gave  proofs  of  a  mofl  depraved  and  corrupt 
difpofition.  Ke  was  intruded  with  die  little  fi:ock  that 
belonged  in  common  to  our  Lord  and  the  apoffles ;  he 
kept  the  bag,  and  he  robbed  it.  This  flagrant  breach  of 
truft  certainly  deferved  the  fevereft  punlihment ;  and  no 
doubt  the  difciples  fecretly  murmured  in  their  hearts,  and 
condemned  their  divine  mafter  for  too  great  lenity  towards 
io  vile  a  \vretch.  But  they  knew  not  what  he  knew,  that 
he  was  referved  for  an  important,  though  nefarious  pur- 
pofe,  and  was  to  be  the  inftrument  of  betraying  the  Sav- 
iour of  the  world  into  the  hands  of  his  murderers,  a  deed 
for  which  his  former  crimes  fliowed  him  to  be  perfectly 
well  qualified.  When  this  work  of  darknefs  was  done, 
his  doom  was  fealed,  his  punifliment  infliantly  foUovved  ; 
and,  what  increafed  its  bittemefs,  it  was  inflided  with  hi> 
own  hand. 

*  Gen.  xvlii.  2j.  f  Ifaiah  x-  5. 


206  LECTURE     XIIL 

There  is  ftill  another  very  important  conli deration, 
which  may  frequently  occafion  a  delay  in  punifhing  even 
grievous  offenders ;  and  that  is,  the  goodnefs  and  long- 
fuffering  of  God,  who  is  not  willing  that  any  fhould  per- 
ifli,  but  that  all  fhould  have  time  for  repentance. 

He  who  looks  into  the  hearts  of  men,  may  fee  various 
reafons  for  fparing  thofe  whom  we  would  confign  to  im- 
mediate deftrudion.  He  may  difcern  fome  good  qualites 
in  them  which  are  unknown  to  us,  fome  good  difpofitions 
and  good  principles,  which  have  entirely  efcaped  our  ob- 
fervation.  He  may  perceive  that  they  have  been  betrayed 
into  the  crimes  they  have  committed,  more  by  unfortunate 
circumfiiances,  by  eiTor  of  judgment,  by  miftaken  zeal, 
by  wrong  education,  by  the  folicitation  and  the  influence 
of  wortfiefs  companions,  than  by  an  incurable  and  invet- 
rate  depravity  of  heart.  He  may  fee,  that  amidft  a  mul- 
titude of  vile  weeds,  there  are  ftill  fome  feeds  of  virtue 
remaining  in  their  breafts,  which,  if  duly  cheriftied  and 
foftered,  and  cultivated  with  care  and  tendernefs,  may 
produce  moft  valuable  fruits  of  righteoufnefs.  "  He  is 
unwilling  therefore  to  break  the  bruifed  reed,  or  to  quench 
the  fmoking  flax*."  He  is  unwilling  to  deftroy  what  may 
ftill  pofl[ibly  be  reftored  ;  he  is  unwilling  to  extingulfti,  by 
feverity,  the  fainteft  fparks  of  latent  goodnefs.  He  fees, 
in  fhort,  that  if  they  have  time  for  reflexion,  if  they  have 
fpace  for  repentance,  they  ivlll  repent,  and  he  gracioufly 
gives  them  a  refpite  for  that  purpofef . 

*  Matth.  xii.  20. 

f  "  Thofe  offenders  wliom  the  Deity  knows  to  be  abfolutely-  incur- 
able, he  deftroys  ;  but  to  thofe  in  whom  he  difcovers  fome  good  difpo- 
fitions, and  a  probability  of  reformation,  he  gives  time  for  amend- 
ment. Thus  by  immediate  punifhment  he  corrects  a  feiv,  but  by  fome- 
times  delaying  it  he  recovers  and  reforms  ?wa;2y  Piut.  v.  a  p.  551. 
C.  D, 

To  this  may  be  added  another  fine  obfervation  of  the  fame  author  ; 
*'  that  God  is  fometimes  flow  in  punifhing  the  wicked,  in  order  to  teach 
us  mortals  a  leffon  of  moderation  ;  to  reprefs  that  vehemence  and  pre- 
cipitation with  which  we  are  fometimes  impelled  to  avenge  ourfelves 
on  thofe  that  offend  us  In  the  firid  heat  of  our  paflion  immediately  and 
immoderately?  and  to  induce  us  to  imitate  that  mlldnefs,  patience, 
and  forbearance,  which  He  is  often  fo  merciful  as  to  exerclfc  towards 
thofe  that  have  incurred  his  difoleafure."     P.  550-   F. 


•    LECTURE     XIII.  207 

And  {hall  we  repine  or  murmur  at  this  forbearance, 

tiiis  indulgence  of  God  towards  fmners  i  Are  not  we  our- 
felves  all  of  us  fmners,  miferable  fmners  :  and  do  we  think 
that  God  treats  us  with  too  much  indulgence  ?  Is  there 
any  one  here  prefent  who  would  be  content  that  God 
fhould  immediately,  and  without  mercy,  infiidl  on  him 
the  utmoll  punifhment  which  his  fms  juftly  deferve  ?  "WHiat, 
alas !  would  become  of  the  very  bed  of  us,  if  this  was 
the  cafe  ;  and  who  could  abide  thefe  judgments  of  the 
Lord  ?  And  how  then  can  we  refufe  to  others  that  mercy 
of  which  we  ftand  fo  much  in  need  ourfelves  ? 

It  is  evident,  and  we  fee  it  every  day,  tliat  men  who 
once  were  profligate  have  in  time  become  eminently  virtu- 
ous ;  and  what  pity  would  it  have  been  if  extreme  or  un- 
timely feverity  had  either  fuddenly  cut  them  off,  orliard- 
ened  them  in  their  wickednefs  !  Great  minds  are  fometimes 
apt  to  fly  out  into  exceffes  at  their  firfl:  outfet,  but  after- 
wards, upon  refledion,  and  with  proper  culture,  rife  up 
to  the  pradice  of  the  noblefl:  virtues.  And  it  is  mercy 
worthy  of  God  to  exercife,  and  which  men  infliead  of 
cenfuring  ought  to  admire  and  adore,  if  he  choofes  the 
aailder,  though  flower  methods,  with  thofe  who  are  capa- 
ble of  being  reformed  by  them.  Thefe  fentiments  cannot 
be  better  illufl:rated  than  by  the  example  of  St.  Paul. 
That  illuftTious  apoftle  was  we  know  once,  as  he  himfelf 
confelfes,  t/jc  chief  of  f inner s  ;  he  was  a  fiery  zealot,  and  a 
furious  perfecutor  of  the  firfl:  Chriftians,  breathing  out 
continually  threatening  and  flaughter  againfc  them,  mak- 
ing havoc  of  the  Church,  entering  into  every  houfe,  and 
hauling  men  and  women  to  prifon  ;  and  being,  as  he  ex- 
preffes  it,  exceedingly  mad  againfl:  them,  he  perfecuted 
them  unto  Arrange  cities,  and  when  they  were  put  to  death, 
he  gave  his  voice  againfl:  them.  In  the  eye  of  the  Chrif- 
tian  world  then  at  that  time,  he  mufl:  have  been  conflder- 
ed  as  one  of  the  fitteft  objeifls  of  divine  vengeance,  as  a 
perfecutor  and  a  murderer,  vdio  ought  to  be  cut  off  in  an 
inrtant  from  the  face  of  the  earth. 

But  the  great  Difcenier  of  Hearts  thought  otherwife. 
Ke  faw  that  all  this  cruelty,  great  as  it  undoubtedly  was, 


^8  LECTURE     XIIL 

arofe,  not  from  a  difpofition  naturally  favage  and  fero- 
cious, but  from  ignorance,  from  early  religious  prejudi- 
ces, from  mifguided  zeal,  from  a  firm  perfuafion  that  by 
thefe  a6ts  of  feverity  againft  the  firft  Chrillians  he  was  do- 
ing God  fervice.  He  faw  that  this  fame  fervor  of  mind, 
this  excefs  of  zeal,  properly  informed  and  properly  di- 
redted,  would  make  him  a  moft  active  and  able  advocate 
of  that  very  caufe  which  he  had  fo  violently  oppofed.  In- 
ftead  therefore  of  an  extraordinary  a^  of  power  to  deftroy 
him,  he  vifibly  interpofed  to  fave  him.  He  was  in  a  mi- 
raculous manner  converted  to  the  Chriftian  faith,  and  be- 
came the  principal  inftrument  of  diffufnig  it  through  the 
world.  We  fee  tlien  what  baneful  efFedls  would  fometimes 
arife  from  the  immediate  punifhment  even  of  notorious 
delinquents.  It  would  in  this  cafe  have  deprived  the 
Chriftian  world  of  the  abilities,  the  eloquence,  the  indefa- 
tigable and  fuccefsful  exertions  of  this  learned  and  intrepid 
apoftle,  whofe  converfion  gave  a  ftrong  additional  evidence 
to  the  truth  of  the  Gofpel,  and  who  laid  down  his  life  for 
the  religion  he  had  embraced. 

Yet  notwithftanding  all  the  reafons  for  fometimes  de- 
laying the  punifhment  of  guilt  in  the  prefent  world,  it 
cannot  be  denied  that  there  are  fome  inftances  of  profper- 
ous  wickednefs,  which  cannot  well  be  accounted  for  by 
any  of  them  ;  and  therefore,  for  a  complete  vindication 
of  the  moral  government  of  God,  we  muft  have  recourfe 
to  the  concluding  part  of  the  parable,  which  will  give  us 
the  fuUeft  fatisfacflion  on  this  interefting  fubje(5l.  To  the 
queftlon  of  the  fervants,  whether  they  {hould  gather  up 
the  tares  from  the  midft  of  the  wheat,  the  houfeholder 
anfwers,  "  nay  ;  left  while  ye  gather  up  the  tares,  ye  root 
up  the  wheat  alfo.  Let  both  grow  together  until  the  har- 
veft,  and  in  the  time  of  harveft  I  will  fay  to  the  reapers, 
gathei'  ye  together  firft  the  tares,  and  bind  them  in  bundles 
to  burn  them,  but  gather  the  wheat  into  my  barn."  The 
harveft,  our  Lord  tells  us  in  his  explanation,  is  the  end  of 
the  world,  at  which  awful  period  the  Son  of  man  ftiall 
fend  forth  his  angels,  and  they  ihall  "  gather  out  of  his 
kingdom  all  things  that  offend,  and  them  which  do  iniqui- 
ty, and  fliall  caft  them  into  a  furnace  of  fire  ;  there  ftiall 


L  E  C  T  U  R    E     XIII.  209 

he  weeping  and  gnaflilng  of  teeth.  Then  fhall  the  right- 
eous ftiine  forth  as  the  fan  in  the  kingdom  of  their  Father. 
He  that  hath  ears  to  hear,  let  him  hear*." 

Here  then  is  the  great  mafter-key  to  the  whole  of  this 
myilerious  difpenfation  of  Heaven.  God  we  fee,  has  ap- 
pointed a  day  when  every  deficiency  in  his  adminiftration 
ihall  be  fupplied,  and  every  feeming  difproportion  and  in- 
equality fhall  be  redlifiedf . 

Even  in  this  v/orld  it  appears  that  wickednefs  is  punilh- 
ed  in  fome  meafure,  and  to  a  certain  degree  ;  and  we 
have  feen  that  the  intcrefts  of  virtue  itfelf,  among  other 
confiderations,  require  that  it  fhould  not  be  inftantly  pun- 
ifhed  to  the  full  extent  of  its  deferts,  God  is  perpetually 
iliowing,  even  in  the  prefent  life,  his  different  regard  to 
right  and  ^^nrong,  by  every  fuch  method  as  the  conftitution  . 
of  the  world  which  he  has  created  admits  ;  and  therefore 
no  fooner  fhall  that  world  come  to  an  end,  and  all  obfta- 
cles  to  an  equal  adminiftration  of  juftice  be  taken  out  of 
the  way,  than  he  fhall  come  to  execute  righteous  judg- 
ment upon  earth. 

"  He  is  not  flack  as  men  count  flacknefsj,'*  that  is  neg- 
ligent and  remifs  ;  he  only  waits  for  tlie  proper  feafon  of 
doing  all  that  hitherto  remains  undone*  Human  weak- 
nefs  indeed,  by  a  fmall  delay  of  punifhing,  may  lofe  the 
power  of  doing  it  for  ever.  "  But  in  the  Lord  Jehovah 
is  everlafting  ftrengthj."  Human  inconflancy  may  be 
vehement  and  paffionate  at  firfl ;  then  negligent  and  lan- 
guid. The  fenfe  of  an  unworthy  adion  that  does  not 
injure  us,  quickly  v/ears  out  of  our  mind  ;  and  if  we  take 
no  immediate  notice  of  it,  we  fliall  pofTibly  take  none  at 

*  Matth.  xiil.    41,  4%,  43. 

f  "  As  the  foul  furvives  the  dlffolution  of  the  body  (fays  the  excel- 
lent Plutarch)  and  cxifts  after  death,  it  is  mofl  probable  that  it  will 
receive  rewards  and  punifliments  in  a  future  ftate  ;  for  it  goes  through  a. 
kind  of  conteft  during  the  prefent  life,  and  when  that  is  over,  it  will 
have  its   due  recompence  hereafter."     561.   A. 

How  nearly  does  this  approach  to  the  do(2nne  of  the  Gofpel, 
which  had  been  promulgated  nearly  one  hundred  years  before  Plu- 
tarch wrote  But  thanks  be  to  God,  what  this  great  man  though* 
only  probable,  we  have  the  happincfs  of  knowing  to  be  certain- 

\  %  Pet,  ii».  9.  ^  Ifaiah  xxvi.  4 

Q 


.^IG  LECTURE     XIIL; 

all.  But  v:e  muft  not  think' God  to  be  fuch  an  one  as 
ourfelves.  Eternity  itfelf  will  make  no  change  in  his  ab- 
horrence of  wickednefs,  nor  will  any  thing  either  tranfport 
him  to  act  before  his  appointed  time,  or  prevail  upon  him 
to  give  a  refpite  when  tliat  time  comes.  The  fmners  of 
the  antediluvian  v/orld,  abufing  the  long  fpace  of  one 
hundred  and  tv/enty  years  which  ho  allowed  for  their  re- 
pentance, periftied  at  the  end  of  it  without  mercy.  The 
angels  who  fell  from  their  firil  eftate  before  this  earth  was 
created,  he  has  referved  for  torments,  that  fliall  not  finally 
take  place  till  it  is  conilimed*. 

The  fame  im.portant  period  his  Infinite  wifdom  has 
marked  out  for  the  final  judgment  of  men.  And  undoubt- 
edly it  may  produce  advantages  of  unfpeakable  moment 
thus  to  defer  juftice,  vdth  a  defign  of  rendering  fome  cho- 
fen  parts  of  duration  mem.orable  thi-oughout  the  univerfe, 
by  a  m.ors  extenfive  and  illuftrious  exercife  of  it.  For  it 
rnuO:  needs  make  an  inconceivably  ftrong  and  lafting  im- 
preffion  upon  every  order  of  beings  that  Ihall  then  be  pre- 
sent at  the  folemn  fcene,  to  hear  the  final  doom  of  a 
whole  world  pronounced  at  once  ;  and  to  behold  fins  that 
had  been  committed  thoufands  of  years  before,  punifhed 
with  the  fam.e  attention  to  every  circumif  ance  as  if  they  had 
been  but  of  yefterda.y. 

How  far  ofF  thefe  judgments  of  the  Lord  may  be,  we 
none  of  us  know.  But  with  regard  to  ourfelves,  they  are 
near,  tliey  are  even  at  the  door.  The  few  days  we  have 
to  pafs  in  this  tranfient  fcene  vi^ill  determine  our  condition 
for  ever,  and  bring  us  into  an  eternal  ftate,  compared 
with  which  the  continuance  of  the  prefent  frame  of  na- 
ture, >from  its  very  beginning,  will  be  as  nothing.  Then 
every  aft  of  tlie  government  of  God  will  be  fcen  in  its 
true  light ;  the  imagined  length  of  diftance  between  guilt 
and  its  punifiiment  will  totally  difappear ;  and  oifenders 
will  lament  in  vain  that  fentence  is  executed  fo/peedily  as 
It  is  againft  evil  works.  But  with  peculiar  feverlty  will 
it  be  executed  on  them,  who  defpifing  the  riches  of  that 
goodnefs  which  would  lead  them  to  repentance,  "  treafure 
up  for  themfelves  wrath  againft  the  day  of  wrath  and 
revelation  of  the  righteous  judgment  of  Godf ." 
*  Judc  vi.  2  Pet.  ii.  4.  f  Rosn.  ii,  5. 


LECTURE     Xni.  211 

Upon  the  whole  then  let  not  either  the  fmner  triumph, 
or  the  virtuous  repine,  at  the  apparent  impunity  or  even 
profperity  of  the  wicked  in  the  prefent  Hfe.  To  the  au- 
dacious fmner  we  apply  thofe  moft  oppofite  and  moft  aw- 
ful words  of  the  fon  of  Sirach.  "  Say  not  who  fhall 
control  me  for  my  works,  for  the  Lord  fl>all  furely  avenge 
thy  pride.  Say  not  I  have  fmned,  and  what  harm  hath 
happened  unto  me ;  for  the  Lord  is  indeed  long-fufFering, 
but  he  will  in  no  wife  let  thee  go.  Say  not,  his  mercy  is 
great,  he  will  be  pacified  for  the  multitude  of  my  fms  ; 
for  both  mercy  and  wrath  come  from  him,  and  his  indig- 
nation refteth  upon  fmners.  Make  therefore  no  tarrying 
to  turn  unto  the  Lord,  and  put  not  off  from  day  to  day  ; 
for  fuddenly  fhall  the  wrath  of  the  Lord  come  forth,  and 
in  thy  fecurity  fhalt  thou  be  deftroyed,  and  perifh  in  the 
day  of  vengeance*." 

To  the  religious  and  virtuous  on  the  other  hand  we  fay, 
**  Fret  not  thyfelf  becaufe  of  the  ungodly,  neither  be  thou 
envious  againft  the  evil  doers.  Hold  thee  ftill  in  the  Lord, 
and  abide  patiently  upon  him  ;  but  grieve  not  thyfelf  at 
him  whofe  way  doth  profper,  againft  the  man  that 
doeth  after  evil  counfels.  Wicked  doers  fhall  be  rooted 
out ;  and  they  that  patiently  abide  the  Lord,  thofe  fnall 
Inherit  the  landf ."  "  Be  patient  therefore,  brethren,  un- 
to the  com.ing  of  the  Lord.  Behold  the  hufbandman 
waiteth  for  the  precious  fruits  of  the  earth,  and  hath 
long  patience  for  it,  until  he  receive  the  early  and  the  lat- 
ter rain.  Be  ye  alfo  patient  for  the  coming  of  the 
Lord  draweth  nighf ." 

It  is  not  indeed  always  an  eafy  tafk  to  exercife  this  pa- 
tience, when  we  fee  confpicuous  inftances  either  of  indi- 
viduals or  of  nations,  notorious  for  their  profligacy,  tri- 
umphant and  profperous  in  all  their  ways.  We  can  fcarce 
reprefs  our  difcontent,  or  forbear  joining  with  the  proph- 
et in  his  expoflulation  with  the  Almighty,  "  Righteous  art 
thou,  O  Lord !  yet  let  me  talk  with  thee  of  thy  judg- 
ments. Why  do  the  ways  of  the  wicked  profper  ?  Why 
are#all  they  happy  that  deal  very  treacherouilyjl?"     To 

*  Eccles.  V,  6,  f  Pfalm  xxxvii.  7, 

^  James  v.  7.  \\  Jerem.  xii.  i. 


^l^  LECTURE     XIIL 

this  we  can  now  anfv/er  in  the  words  of  Job  :  "  KnowefV. 
thou  not  this,  fmce  man  was  placed  upon  tlie  earth,  that 
the  triumphing  of  the  wicked  is  fhort,  and  the  joy  of  the 
hypocrite  but  for  a  moment.  Tliough  his  excellency 
mount  unto  the  heavens,  and  his  head  reach  unto  the 
clouds,  yet  he  fnall  perifli  for  ever,  and  they  that  have 
ieen  him  lliall  fay,  where  is  he'^?" 

In  fa6l  it  has  been  proved,  in  the  courfe  of  this  enquiry, 
that  in  fuch  an  immenfe  and  complicated  fyftem  as  that  of 
the  univerfe,  there  are  many  reafons  which  we  can  dif- 
cern,  and  a  thoufand  others  perhaps  totally  unknown  to 
us,  which  render  it  neceffary  that  the  virtuous  fhould  fuf- 
fer  a  temporary  depreffion,  and  the  wicked  enjoy  a  tempo- 
rary triumph.  But  let  not  thefe  apparent  irregularities 
ciifpirit  or  difcourage  us  :  for  vrhenever  the  purpofes  of 
Providence  in  thefe  myfterious  difpenfations  fliall  have 
been  accomplifhed,  every  diforder  ihall  be  re<5tified,  and 
every  appearance  of  injuftice  done  away.  The  time  and 
the  feafon  for  doing  this  God  has  referved  in  his  own  pow- 
er :  and  v%^e  mull  not  prefume  to  prefcribe  rules  to  the  wif- 
dom  of  the  Almighty.  To  men  excruciated  v/ith  pain, 
every  moment  ieem^  an  age  ;  and  to  men  groaning  under 
opprefiion,  their  deliverance,  if  it  come  not  inftantly, 
may  feem  extremely  diftant.  But  let  them  not  difpair  : 
in  due  feafon  they  {hall  leap  if  tkey  faint  not.  At  the 
period  marked  out  by  infinite  wifdom,  and  which  it  is 
their  duty  to  await  with  patience,  God  fhall  caufe  his 
judgment  to  be  heard  from  heaven,  and  the  earth  fliall 
tremble  and  be  ftilh  He  fhall  then  demonllrate  to  the 
vdiole  world  "  that  his  hand  Is  not  fliortened  that  it  cannot 
redeem,  and  that  he  ftill  retains  the  power  to  favef ." — 
He  Ihall  prove,  in  a  manner  the  moft  awful  and  m.oft  fatif- 
fadory,  "that  verily  there  is  a  reward  for  the  righteous, 
and  a  punifliment  for  the  wicked  ;  that  doubtlefs  there  is 
a  God  that  judgeth  the  earth  J." 

*  Job  XX.  5.         t  Ifaiah,  i,  2  |  Pfalm  Ivli?,  10. 


>•■>•>•■>••>•>•>•>>•' 


LECTURE     XIV. 


MATTHEW  xlv. 

^V  E  are  now,  in  the  courfe  cf  thefe  Lec- 
tures, arrived  at  the  fourteenth  chapter  of  St,  Matthew? 
which  begins  in  the  following  manner  : 

"  At  that  time  Herod  the  tetrarch  heard  of  the  fame 
of  Jefns,  and  faid  unto  his  fervants,  this  is  John  the 
Baptifl  ;  Jie  is  rifen  from  the  dead  ;  and  therefore  mighty 
works  do  fhew  forth  themfelves  in  him  ;  for  Herod  had  laid 
hold  on  John,  and  bound  him,  and  put  him  in  prifon, 
for  Herodias  fake,  his  brother  Philip's  wife  ;  for  John  faid 
unto  him,  it  is  not  lawful  for  thee  to  have  her.  And 
when  he  would  have  pu*:  him  to  death,  he  feared  the  mul- 
titude, becaufe  they  counted  him  as  a  prophet.  But 
when  Herod's  birth-day  v/as  kept,  the  daughter  of  Hero- 
dias danced  before  them,  and  pleafed  Herod  ;  whereupon 
he  promifed  with  an  oath,  that  he  v/culd  give  her  whatfo- 
ever  ftie  would  afk  ;  and  fhe,  being  before  inftruded  of 
her  mother,  faid,  give  me  here  John  Baptift's  head  in  a 
charger.  And  the  king  was  forry  ;  neverthelefs,  for  the 
oath's  fake,  and  them  v/hich  fat  with  him  at  meat,  he 
commanded  it  to  be  given  her,  and  he  fent  and  beheaded 
John  in  the  prifon  ;  and  his  head  was  brought  in  a  charg- 
er,  and  given  to  the  damfel ;  and  fhe  brought  it  to  her 
mother ;  and  his  difciples  came  and  took  up  the  body 
und  buried  it,  and  went  and  told  Jefus." 

Before  v/e  enter  upon  this  remarkable  and  affeding 
narrative  of  the  murder  of  John  the  Baptift  by  Herod, 
it  will  be  proper  to  take  notice  of  the  two  lirfl  verfes  of 
this  chapter,  which  gave  cccafion  to  the  introdu<5tion  of 
that  tranfaflion  in  this  place,  although  it  had  happened 
foine  tim*^  before. 


^H  LECTURE     XIV. 

"  At  that  time,  fays  the  evangelilt,  Herod  the  tetrarcit 
heard  of  the  fame  of  Jefus,  and  faid  unto  his  fervants^ 
this  is  John  the  Baptift  ;  he  is  rifen  from  the  dead ;  and 
therefore  mighty  works-  do  fhew  forth  themfelves  in 
him." 

It  is  not  eafy  to  meet  with  a  more  ftriking  inftancc 
than  this  of  the  force  of  confcience  over  a  guilty  mind,. 
or  a  ftronger  proof  how  perpetually  it  goads  the  fmner, 
not  only  with  well-grounded  fears  and  appelienfions  of 
impending  punifhment  and  vengeance,  but  with  imaginary 
terrors  and  vifionary  dangers. 

No  fooner  did  the  fame  of  Jefus  reach  the  ears  of  the 
tyrant  Herod,  than  it  immediately  occurred  to  his  mind 
that  he  had  himfelf,  not  long  before,  moll  cruelly  and 
"U^antonly  put  to  death  an  innocent,  virtuous,  and  holy 
man,  whofe  reputation  for  wifdom,  integrity,  and  fanc- 
tity  of  manners,  ftood  almoft  as  high  in  the  eftimation  of 
the  world  as  that  of  Jefus ;  and  who  had  even  declared 
himfelf  the  herald  and  the  forerunner  of  that  extraordi- 
nary perfon.  This  inftantly  fuggefted  to  him  an  idea  the 
moft  extravagant  that  could  be  imagined,  that  this  very 
perfon  who  affumed  the  name  of  Jefus  was  in  fad  no 
Other  than  John  the  Baptift  himfelf,  whom  he  had  be- 
headed, and  who  was  now  rifen  from  the  dead,  and  was 
endowed  with  the  pov/er  of  working  miracles,  though 
he  never  performed  any  when  living.  It  is  evident  that 
nothing  could  be  more  improbable  and  abfurd  than  thefe 
fappofitions,  nothing  more  contrary  even  to  his  own 
principles  5  for  there  is  reafon  to  believe  that  Herod,  like 
moll  other  people  of  high  rank  at  that  time,  was  of  the 
fe(5l  called  the  Sadducees,  a  feci  which  reje<5led  the  im- 
mortality of  the  foul,  and  the  dodrine  of  a  refurredion, 
•and  muft  therefore  be  perfectly  adverfe  to  the  ftrange  im- 
agination of  John  the  Baptifl  being  rifen  from  the  dead. — 
Yet  the  fears  of  Herod  overruled  all  the  prejudices  of  his 
fed,  and  raifed  up  before  his  eyes  the  femblance  of  the 
murdered  Baptifl  armed  with  the  power  of  miracles,  for 
the  very  purpofe  (he  perhaps  imagined)  of  infliding 
exemplary  vengeance  upon  him  for  that  atrocious  deed, 
as  well  as  for  his  adultery,  his  inceft,  and  ail  his  other 
crimes :  which  now  probably  prefented  themfelves  in  their 


LECTURE     XIV.  215  • 

Sfiofl  hideous  forms  to  his  terrified  imagination,  piirfuea 
him  into  his  moft  fecret  retirements,  and  tortured  his 
hreaft  with  unceaimg  agonies. 

The  evangeHft  having  thus  introduced  the  mention  of ' 
John  the  Baptift,  goes  back  a  httle  in  his  narrative,  to 
make  the  reader  acquainted  Vv'ith  that  part  of  the  Baptifl's 
hiftory  which  brought  down  upon  him  the  indignation  of 
Herod,  and  was  the  cccanon  of  his  death. 

This  flagitious  prince  had,  it  feems,  in  the  face  of  day, 
and  in  defiance  of  all  laws,  human  and  divine,  commit- 
ted the  complicated  crime  of  adultery  and  incelt,  attend- 
ed with,  every  circumftance  that  could  mark  an  abandoned 
and  unprincipled  mind. 

He  had  been  married  a  confiderable  tim-e  to  the  daugh- 
tei  of  Aretas,  king  of   Arabia  Petrcea,  but  conceiving  a 
violent  paffion  for  his  brother  Philip's,  wife,  Herodias, 
he  firfx:  feduced  her  affeftions  from  her  huiband,  then  dif- 
mified  his  own  wife,  and  married  Herodias,  during  the 
life-time  of  his  brother.     It  was  impoilible  that  fuch  por- 
tentous wickednefs  as  this  could  efcape  the  obfervaticn  or 
the  reproof  of  the  holy  Baptift.     He  had  the  honefty  and 
the  courage  to  reproach  the  tyrant  with  the  enormity  of 
his  guilt,  although  he  could  not  be  ignorant  of  the  dan- 
ger he  incurred  by  fuch  a  m.eafure  ;  but  he   determined  to 
do  his  duty,  and  to  take  the  confequences.     The  confe- 
quences  were,  "  that  Herod  laid  hold  of  John,  and  bound 
him,  and  threv/  him  into  prifon*."     And  undoubtedly 
his  wifli  was  to  have  put  him  immediately  to  death,  but 
he  was  retrained  by  two  confi  derations.     The  firil  v/as, 
becaufe  John  was  held  in  fuch  high  eileem  and  veneration 
by  all  the  people,  that  had  any  violence  been  offered  to 
him  by  Herod,  he  was  apprehenfive  that  it  might  have 
occafioned  a  general  infuiTection  againft  his  government ; 
for  we  are  informed  by  St.  Matthew  that  "  he  feared  the 
multitude,  becaufe  they  counted  John  as  a  prophetf ." 

The  other  reafon  was,  that  although  he  felt  the  utmofl; 
indignation  and  refentment  againft  John  for  the  freedom 
he  had  ufed  in  reproaching  him  for  his  licentious  conduct, 

*  Matth.  xiv,  3.         f  Match,  xlv.  5. 


^IG  LECTURE     XIV. 

yet  at  the  fame  time  the  eharafler  of  that  excellent  mail, 
his  piety,  his  fanftity,  his  integrity,  his  diflntereftednefs3^ 
nay,  even  the  courage  which  had  fo  much  offended  and 
provoked  him,  commanded  his  refpedt  and  veneration, 
and  excited  his  fears ;  for  we  are  told  exprefsly  that  Herod 
feared  John,  knowing  he  was  a  juil  man  and  a  holy'*. — 
Nor  is  this  all,  he  not  only  feared  John,  but  in  fome  de- 
gree paid  court  to  him.  He  frequently  fent  for  him  out 
of  prifon,  and  converfed  with  himj  and,  as  the  evangel- 
ift  exprefles  it,  ohferved  him  ;  that  is,  liftened  to  him  with 
attention  and  with  pleafure  ;,  nay  he  went  farther  llill,  he 
did  many  things,  many  things  which  John  exhorted  and  en- 
joined him  to  dof  *  He  perhaps  fiiowed  more  attention  to 
many  of  his  public  duties,  more  gentlenefs  to  his  fubjects, 
more  com.paffion  to  the  poor,  more  equity  in  his  judicial 
determinations,  more  regard  to  public  worfhip  ;  and  vain- 
ly hoped  perhaps,  like  many  other  audacious  fmners,  that 
this  partial  reformation,  this  half-way  amendment,  would 
avert  the  judgments  with  which  John  probably  threatened 
him.  But  the  main  point,  the  great  objed  of  John^s  rep- 
rehenfion,  the  inceftuous  adultery  in  which  he  lived,  that  he 
could  not  part  with ;  it  was  too  precious,  too  favorite  a 
fm  to  give  up  ;  too  great  a  facrifice  to  make  to  confcience 
and  to  God, 

What  a  pidhire  does  this  hold  out  to  us  of  that  ftrange 
thing  called  human  nature,  of  that  inconfiPcence,  that 
contradiftion,  that  contrariety,  which  fometimes  take 
place  in  the  heart  of  man,  unfanflified  and  unfubdued  by 
the  power  of  divine  grace  !  and  what  an  exalted  idea  at 
the  fame  time  does  it  give  us  of  the  dignity  of  a  truly 
religious  char a6ler,  like  that  of  John,  which  compels  even 
its  bittereil  enemies  to  reverence  and  to  fear  it ;  and  fore » 
es  even  the  moft  profligate  and  mofl  powerful  of  men  to 
pay  an  unwilling  homage  to  excellence,  at  the  very  mo- 
ment, perhaps,  when  they  arc  meditating  its  deftrudlion  I 

In  this  ftate  of  irrefolution  Herod  might  probably  have 
continued,  and  the  fate  of  John  have  remained  undecided 
for  a  confiderable  time,  had  not  an  incident  taken  place, 
which  determined  both  much  fooner  perhaps  than  was  ii> 

*  Mark,  vi.  ao.  f  Mark,  vl  %o. 


LECTURE    XIV.  nt 

tended.  Herod,  on  his  birth-day,  gave  an  entertainment  to 
the  principal  officers  of  his  army  and  of  his  court ;  and  as 
a  peculiar  and  very  uncommon  compliment  on  the  occa- 
fion,  Salome,  the  daughter  of  his  wife  Herodias  by  her 
former  hufband,  came  in  and  danced  before  the  company 
in  a  manner  fo  pleafmg  to  Herod  and  to  all  his  guefls,  that 
the  king  in  a  fudden  tranfport  of  delight,  cried  out  to  the 
da'mfel,  as  St.  Mark  relates  it,  "  Alk  of  me  whatfoever 
thou  wilt,  and  I  will  give  it  thee."     And  he  fware  unto 
her,  "  whatfoever  thou  flialt  alk  of  me  I  will  give  it  thee 
even  unto   the  half  of  my  kingdom*."     The  folly,  the 
rafhnefs,  and  the  madnefs  of  fuch  an  oath  as  this,  on  fo 
fooUfh  an  occafion,  could  be  exceeded  by  nothing  but  the 
horrible  purpofe  to  which  it  was  perverted  by  the  young 
creature  to  whom  it  was  made,  or  rather  by  her  profligate 
inftrui^or  and  advifer,  her  mother  Herodias.     Aftonifhed 
and  overwhelmed  probably  with  the  magnitude  of  fuch 
an  une^ipedted  offer,  v/hich  laid  at  her  feet  half  the  wealth, 
the  pov/er  and  the  fplendor  of  a  kingdom,  Ihe  found  her- 
ielf  unable  to  decide  between  the  various  dazzling  objects 
that  would  prelent  themfelves  to  her  imagination,  and 
therefore  very  naturally  applies  to  her  mother  for  advice 
and  dire(51:ion.     Moll  mothers,  on  fuch  an  occafion,  would 
have  afked  for  a  daughter  a  magnificent  eftablifhment,  a 
fituation  of  high  rank  and  power  !   But  Herodias  had  a 
paflion  to  gratify,  ftronger  perhaps  than  any  other,  when 
it  takes  full  poiTefTicn  of  the  human  heart,  and  tliat  was 
reven.^e.     She  had  been  mortally  injured,  as  fhe  conceiv- 
ed, by  the  Baptift,  who  had   attem.pted  to  diifolve  her 
prefent  infam^ous  com^edion  with   FJerod.     And  (lie  not 
only  felt  the  higheft  indignation  at  this   infult,  but  was 
afraid  that  his  repeated   remonilrances  might  at  length 
prevail.     She  therefore  did  not  hefitate  one  moment  what 
to  alk  ;  fhe  gave  way  to  all  the  fury  of  her  refentment  j 
and  without  the  leaft  regard  to  the  character  or  the  delicate 
fituation  of  her  inexperienced  daughter,  flie  immediately 
ordered  her  to  demand  the  head  of  her  detctted  enemy, 
John  the  Baptift  I   The  wretched  young  woman  unfortu- 
nately obeyed  this  dreadful  command ;  and,  as  we  are 
told  by  the  evangelift,  "  came  in  ftraightway  with  halte 
unto  the  kingf ."     She  came  with  fpeed  in  her  fteps,  and 

*  Mark,  vl,  a»,  23.  f  Mark.  vi.  25.       Matth,  xiv.  8. 

Q  2 


2ia  LECTURE     XIV. 

eagemefs  in  her  eye,  and  fald,  "  Give  me  here  John  the 
Baptift's  head  in  a  charger."  This  favage  requeft  appal- 
led even  the  unfealing  heart  cf  Herod  himfelf.  He  did 
not  exped  it,  and  was  not  prepared  for  it ;  and  although 
he  was  highly  difgufted  with  John,  yet,  for  the  reafons 
above  mentioned,  he  did  not  choofe  to  go  to  extremeties 
with  him.  He  was  therefore  exceeding  forry^  as  the  facred 
Hiftorian  informs  us,  to  be  thus  forced  upon  fo  violent 
and  hazardous  a  meafure  ;  neverthelefs,  for  his  oath's 
fake,  and  them  which  fat  with  him  at  meat,  he  com- 
manded it  to  be  given  to  her."  Conceiving  himfelf,  moft 
abfurdly,  bound  by  his  oath  to  comply  even  with  this  in- 
human demand,  and  afraid  left  he  fhould  be  reproached 
by  thofe  that  were  around  him  with  having  broken  his 
promife,  he  preiered  the  real  guilt  of  murder  to  the  falfe 
imputation  of  perjury,  and  "  fent  and  beheaded  John  in 
prifon ;  and  his  head  was  brought  in  a  charger,  and 
given  to  the  damfel,  and  fhe  brought  it  to  her  mother." — 
It  is  well  known  that  it  was  a  cuftom  in  the  eaft,  and  is  fo 
ftill  in  the  Turkifh  court,  to  produce  the  heads  of  thofe 
that  are  ordered  to  be  put  to  death,  as  a  proof  that  they 
have  been  really  executed.  But  how  this  wretched  dam- 
fel could  io  far  fubdue  the  common  feelings  of  human 
nature,  and  frill  more  the  natural  tendernefs  and  delicacy 
of  her  fex,  as  not  only  to  endure  fo  difgufling  and  fhock- 
ing  a  fpeftacle,  but  even  to  carry  the  bleeding  trophy  in 
triumph  to  her  mother,  it  is  not  eafy  to  imagine  ;  and  it 
would  fcarce  be  credited,  did  w^e  not  know  that  'in  times 
and  in  countries  much  nearer  to  our  own,  fights  of  Hill 
greater  horror  than  this  have  been  contemplated,  even  by 
women  and  children,  w^ith  complacency  and  with  delight. 

Such  was  the  conclufion  of  this  fmgular  tranfa^lion ; 
and  every  part  of  it  isfo  pregnant  with  ufeful  inftrudtion 
and  admonition,  that  I  fliall  ftand  excufed,  I  hope,  if  I 
take  up  a  little  more  of  your  time  than  is  ufual  in  dif- 
courfes  of  this  nature,  in  commenting  fomewhat  at  large 
on  the  condudl  and  charaflers  cf  the  feveral  adors  in  this 
dreadful  tragedy. 

And,  in  the  firfi:  place,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the 
rnoft  guilty  and  the  moft  unpardonable  of  all  the  parties 
concerned  in  thib  murder  of  an  innocent  and  excellent  man 


LECTURE.    XIV.  219 

was  the  abandoned  Herodias.  For  it  was  Oie  whofe  indig- 
nation againll  John  was  carried  to  the  greateft  length* 
and  in  the  end  efFe<5i:ed  his  ruin.  It  was  ftie  who  was  con- 
tiually  importuning  and  urging  Herod  to  put  the  Baptift  to 
deatli,  from  which,  for  a  confiderable  time,  his  fears  re- 
ftrained  him.  It  was  fhe  who^  as  St.  Mark  expreffes  it, 
*'  /jad  a  quarrel  againft  John,  and  would  have  killed  him, 
but  fhe  could  not*."  The  words  tranflated,  had  a  quarrel 
againjl  him,  have  in  the  original  much  greater  force  and 
energy,  Eneiphen  auto.  She,  as  it  were,  faftened  and 
hung  upon  J(^hn,  and  was  determined  not  to  let  go  her 
hold  till  flie  had  deftroyed  himf . 

We  here  fee  a  fatal  proof  of  the  extreme  barbarities  to 
which  that  moft  diabolical  fentiment  of  revenge  will 
drive  the  natural  tendemefs  even  of  a  female  mind  ;  what 
a  clofe  connedlion  there  is  between  crimes  of  apparently  a 
very  different  complexion,  and  how  frepuently  the  uncon- 
trolled indulgence  of  what  are  called  the  fofter  affedicns, 
lead  ultimately  to  the  moft  violent  exceffes  of  the  malig- 
nant paffions.  The  voluptuary  generally  piques  hirafeli 
on  his  benevolence,  his  humanity,  and  gentlenefs  of  dlf- 
pofition.  His  claim  even  to  thefe  virtues  is  at  the  beft 
very  problematical ;  becaufe  in  his  purfuit.of  pleafure,  he 
makes  no  fcruple  of  facrificing  the  peace,  the  comfort, 
the  happinefs  of  thofe  for  v/hom  he  pretends  the  tendereft 
affedlion,  to  the  gratification  cf  liis  own  felfifli  defires. — 
But  however  he  may  preferve  his  good  humour,  when  he 
meets  with  no  refiftance,  the  moment  he  is  thwarted  and 
oppofed  in  his  flagitious  purpoles,  he  has  no  hcfitation  in 
going  any  lengths  to  gain  his  point,  and  will  fight  his  way 
to  the  objeft  he  has  in  view  through  the  heart  of  the  very 
beft  friend  he  has  in  the  world.  The  fame  thing  we  fee  in 
a  ftill  more  ftriking  point  of  view,  in  the  conduct  of  He- 
rodias.  She  was  at  firft  only  a  bold  unprincipled  libertinej 
and  miight  perhaps  be  admired  and  celebrated,  as  many 
others  of  that  difcription  have  been,  for  her  good  tem.per, 
her  fenfibility,  her  generofity  to  the  poor  ;  and  with  this 

*  Mark,  vi.  19. 

f  Hefychlus  explains  enephei  by  elLehai,  Jlkks  clofe  to  in  hatred  cr- 
fpitc.  Doddridge  gives  ftill  greater  force  to  the  cxpreflion  \  but  Park- 
burfl  does  not  allow  it. 


220  LECTURE     XIV. 

charafter  fhe  might  have  gone  out  of  the  world,  had  no 
fuch  perfon  as  John  arifen  to  reprove  her  and  her  hufband 
for  their  profligacy,  and  to  endanger  the  continuance  of 
her  guilty  commerce.  But  no  fooner  does  he  rebuke  them 
as  they  deferved,  than  Herodias  Ihewed  that  flie  had  other 
paffions  to  indulge  befides  thofe  which  had  hitherto  dif- 
graced  her  charader ;  and  that,  when  fhe  found  it  necef- 
fary  to  her  pleafures,  (he  could  be  as  cruel  as  fhe  had  been 
licentious ;  could  contrive  and  accomplifh  the  deflruftion 
of  a  great  and  good  man,  could  feail  her  eyes  with  the 
fight  of  his  mangled  head  in  a  charger,  could  even  make 
her  own  poor  child  the  inftrument  of  her  vengeance,  and, 
as  I  am  inclined  to  think,  a  relu^ant  accomplice  in  a  moft 
atrocious  murder. 

Here  is  a  moft  awful  leffon  held  out,  not  only  to  the 
female  fex,  but  to  both  fexes,  to  perfons  of  all  ages  and 
conditions,  to  beware  of  giving  way  to  any  one  evil  pro- 
penfity  in  their  nature,  however  it  may  be  difguifed  un- 
der popular  names,  however  indulgently  it  may  be  treated 
by  the  world,  however  it  may  be  authorized  by  the  general 
praftice  of  mankind  ;  becaufe  they  here  fee  that  they  may 
not  onl)r  be  led  into  the  groifeft  extravagancies  of  that  in- 
dividual paflion,  but  may  alfo  be  infenfibly  betrayed  into 
the  commiffion  of  crimes  of  the  dsepeft  dye,  which  in 
their  ferious  moments  they  alv/ays  contemplated  with  the 
utmofl  horror. 

Let  us  now  take  our  leave  of  this  wretched  woman,  and 
turn  our  attention  for  a  m.oment  to  her  unhappy  daughter. 
Kere  undoubtedly  there  is  much  to  blame,  but  there  is 
alfo  fomething  to  pity  and  to  lament.  Her  youth,  her 
inexperience,  her  unfortunate  fltuation  in  a  moft  corrupt 
court,  the  vile  example  that  was  conftantly  before  her  eyes, 
the  influence,  the  authority,  the  commands  of  a  profli- 
gate mother,  thefe  are  circumftances  that  plead  power- 
fully for  compaflion,  and  tend  in  fome  degree  to  mitigate 
her  guilt.  Her  firft  fault  evidently  was  that  grofs  viola- 
tion  of  all  decorum,  and  all  cuftom  too,  in  appearing  and 
dancing  publicly  before  Herod  and  a  large  number  of  his 
friends  alfembled  at  a  feftive  meeting,  and  perhaps  half 
intoxicated  with  wine.  But  it  is  not  probable  that  a  young 
woman  of  high  rank,  and  fo  very  tender  an  age  as  fhe  feems 


LECTURE    XIV.  221 

to  have  been,  IhoiJd  have  voluntarily  taken  fuch  a  ftep  as 
this,  or  fnould  have  been  able  to  fubdue  at  once  all  tlie 
modefty  and  the  timidity  of  her  fex,  and  acquire  courage 
enough  to  encounter  the  eyes  and  the  obfervations  of  fo 
licentious  an  afTembiy.  There  can  be  little  doubt,  that 
fhe  vv'as  wrought  upon  by  the  perfuafions  of  her  artful 
mother,  who  flattered  herfelf  that  this  artifice  might  pro- 
duce fome  fuch  efFecl:  in  the  mind  of  Herod  as  aftually 
followed.  What  adds  great  weight  to  this  conjedure  is, 
that  her  next  dreadful  tranfgreflion,  her  fmgular  and  fan- 
guinary  requeft  to  have  the  head  of  John  the  Baptift  pre- 
fented  to  her,  vras  unqeflionably  the  fuggeftion  ef  the 
abandoned  Herodias. 

The  facred  hiftorian  expresfly  informs  us,  that  it  was  in 
confequence  of  being  before  inJiruEled  of  her  mother  that  fhe 
made  tliis  demand.  Nor  is  this  all ;  there  is  great  reafon 
to  believe  that  it  was  with  the  utmoft  difficulty  fhe  was  pre- 
vailed on  to  comply  witli  the  injun<5tions  that  were  given 
her ;  for  the  original  words  prohilajlhetfa  npo  ies  metros, 
which  we  tranfiate  before  inJluBed  of  her  mother^  more  flrift- 
iy  fignify  being  ivrought  upon,  irjiigatedy  and  impelled  by 
her  mother  ;  for  this  is  tlio  fenfe  in  which  that  expreilion  is 
ufed  by  the  beft  Greek  writers. 

This  fuppofition  receives  no  fmall  confirmation  from  the 
manner  in  v/hich  flie  is  reprefentcd  by  the  evangelift  as  de- 
ilvering  heranfwer  to  Herod.  "She  came  ftrightway 
vvith  hafte  unto  the  king  ;"  fhe  betrayed  on  her  return  the 
Mtmoft  emotion  and  agitation  of  rnind.  She  had  worked 
Tiei-felf  up  to  a  refolution  of  obeying  her  mother  ;  and 
was  in  hafte  to  execute  her  commillion,  left  if  any  paufe 
had  intervened  her  heart  fliould  relent,  her  fpirits  fail  her, 
ind  fhe  fliould  not  Irave  courage  to  utter  the  dreadful  de- 
mand flie  had  to  make. 

AH  this  feems  to  imply  great  reladriance  on  her  part,  and 
•evidently  is  a  ccnfiderable  alleviation  of  her  crime ;  yet  does 
by  no  means  exem.pt  her  from  all  guilt.  For  although  obe- 
dience to  parents  is  a  very  facred  duty,  yet  there  is  anoth- 
er du^y  fuperior  to  it,  that  which  we  owe  to  our  Maker. 
And  v/henever  even  a  parent  would  incite  us  to  any  thing 
plainly  repugnant  tc  his  laws,  as  was  the  cafe  in  th"  pref- 


LECTURE     XIV. 

ent  inftance,  we  muft,  though  with  all  poffible  decency 
and  refpe<a,  yet  with  firmnefs  and  with  courage,  relift  the 
impious  command,  and  declare  it  to  be  our  defided  refo- 
lution  "  to  obey  God  rather  than  man." 

The  next  perfon  that  claims  our  notice  in  this  Intereft- 
ing  narrative  is  Herod  himfelf.     We  have  already  feen 
his  inconfiftent  and  undecided  conduct  refpeding  John. — 
He  had  in  a  moment  of  exafperation  thrown  him  into 
prifon ;  but  from  a  refpecl  to  his  character,  and  fear  of 
the  confequences  if  he  offered  him  any  further  violence, 
he  fuffered  him  to  remain  unmolefted,  and  even  frequently 
admitted  him  to  his  prefence,  and  held  converfations  with 
him.     And  it  is  not  improbable  that  after  fome  time  his 
refentment   might   have    fubfided,    and  he  might   have 
releafed  his  prifoner.     But  when  once  a  man  has  involved 
himfelf  deeply  in  guilt,  he  has  no  fafe  ground  to  ftand  up- 
on.    Every  thing  is  unfound  and  rotten  under  his  feet. — 
He  cannot  fay,  **  fo  far  will   I  go  In  wickednefs,  and  no 
farther."  The  crimes  he  has  already  committed  may  have 
an  unfeen  connedlion  with  others,  of  which  he  has  not  the 
fiighteft  fufpicion  ;  and  he  may  be  hurried,  when  he  leaft 
intends    it,    into  enormities,  of  v»rhich  he  once  thought 
himfelf  utterly  incapable.     This  was  the  cafe  in  the  pref- 
ent  inftance.     When    Herod    firft  engaged  in  his  guilty 
intercourfe   with    Herodias,     he  probably  meant  to   go 
no  further.    He  meant  to  content  himfelf  with  adultery  and 
inceft,  and  had  no  intentions  of    adding  murder  to  the 
black   catalogue  of  his  crimes.     He  had  no  other  view 
but  the  gratification  of  a  prefent  pafllon,  and  did  not  look 
forward  to  the  many  evils  which  fcarce  ever  fail  to  arife 
from  a  criminal  connection  with  a  profligate  and  artful, 
woman.     This  was  the  original  and  fruitful  fource  of  all 
his  future   crimes  and  future  misfortunes.     He  flattered 
himfelf  that,  notwlthftanding  his  marriage  with  Herodi- 
as, he  fhould  ftill  be  mafter  of  his  own  refolutions  and  his 
owjn.  anions.      But  Herodias  foon  taught  him  a  different 
leffon.     She  fhewcd  that  fhe  underftood  him  much  better 
than  he  did  himfelf.      She  convinced  him  that  his  deiiiny 
was  in  her  hands  ;  that  fhe  held  the  fecret  wire  that  gov- 
erned all  his  motions ;  and  that  fhe  could,  by  one  means 
or  other,  bend  his  mind  to  any  purpofe  which  Ihe  vras 
determined  to  accomplifli.     It  was  his  intention  to  fave 


LECTURE     XIV.  22S 

John  the  Baptift.  It  was  her  intention  to  deftroy  him, 
and  fhe  did  it.  He  had  indeed  the  courage  to  refift  her  re- 
peated felicitations  that  he  would  put  John  to  death.  And 
piqued  himfelf  probably  on  the  firmnefs  of  his  refolution. 
But  Herodias  was  not  of  a  temper  to  be  difcouraged  by  a 
few  denials  or  repulfes.  She  knew  that  there  were  other 
more  effeflual  ways  of  carrying  her  point.  If  the  king 
could  not  be  compelled  to  furrender  by  affault,  he  might 
be  taken  by  ftratagem  and  furprize.  And  to  this  fhe  had 
recourfe.  She  faw  that  her  daughter  had  attradions  and 
accomplifliments  which  might  be  turned  to  good  account, 
which  might  be  made  to  opperate  moft  powerfully  on  fuch 
a  mind  as  Herod's. 

She  tlierefore,  as  we  have  already  feen,  planned  the 
projc(a  of  her  dancing  before  him  on  the  feftival  of  his 
birth-day,  in  the  hope  that  in  the  unguarded  moments  of 
convivial  mirth,  he  m.ight  be  betrayed  into  fome  conceffion, 
fome  act  of  indulgence  tov/ards  this  favorite  daughter, 
from  which  he  could  not  eafily  recede.  The  plan  fuc- 
ceeded  even  probably  beyond  her  expeftations.  The  mo- 
narch was  caught  in  the  fnare  that  was  laid  for  him. — 
He  m.ade  a  rafli  promife  to  Salome,  and  confirmed  tliat 
promife  by  an  oath,  that  he  would  give  her  whatfoever 
fbe  would  afk.  And  when,  to  his  infinite  adonilhment 
and  grief,  fhe  demanded  the  life  of  a  man  whom  he  wifh- 
ed  to  fave,  inp£ead  cf  retreating  by  the  only  way  he  had 
left,  that  of  retracing  a  promife  which  it  was  miadnefs  to 
make,  and  the  extremity  of  wickednefs  to  perform,  he 
was  induced  by  a  falfe  point  of  honor  (as  worthlefs  men 
frequently  are)  to  commit  an  attocious  murder  rather  than 
violate  a  rafh  oath,  anoath  which  could  never  make  thatright 
which  was  before  intrinficaily  wrong,  which  could  never 
bind  him  to  any  thing  in  itfelf  unlawful,  much  lefs  to  the 
moft  unlawful  of  all  things,  the  deftruction  of  an  inno- 
cent and  virtuous  man. 

I  have  entered  thus  minutely  into  the  detail  of  tliis 
remarkable  tranfadion,  becaufe,  as  I  have  before  remark- 
ed, every  line  of  it  is  replete  with  the  moft  important  in~ 
ftuJtlon  ;  as  indeed  is  the  cafe  with  every  part  of  the  fa- 
crcd  hiftory  in  the  Gofpel,  and  the  Ads,  which  teach  full 
as  much  by  the  faflis  they  relate  as  by  the  precepts  they 


^4.  LECTURE     XIV. 

Inculcate.  The  moral  lefTons  to  be  drawn  from  the  paf- 
iage  before  us  I  have  already  pointed  out  in  fome  degree 
5is  I  went  along  ;  but  there  are  one  or  two  of  a  more  gen* 
eral  import,  which  I  fliall  briefly  add  in  conclufion,  and 
which  will  deferve  your  very  ferious  attention. 

The  firfl  is,  that  in  the  conduS:  of  life  there  is  nothing 
more  to  be  dreaded  and  avoided,  nothing  more  dangerous 
to  our  peace,  to  our  comfort,  to  our  character,  to  our 
welfare  here  and  hereafter,  than  a  criminal  attachment  to 
an  abandoned  and  unprincipled  Vv'oman,  more  particularly 
in  tlie  early  period  of  life.  It  has  been  the  fource  of  more 
mifery,  and  befides  all  the  guilt  which  naturally  belongs  to 
it,  has  led  to  the  commiffion  of  more  and  greater  crimes 
than  perhaps  any  other  fnigle  caufe  that  can  be  named. 
We  have  feen  into  what  a  gulph  of  fni  and  fuffering  it 
plunged  the  v/retched  Herod.  He  began  with  adulter}% 
and  he  ended  with  murder,  and  with  the  total  ruin  of 
himfelf,  his  kingdom,  and  all  the  vile  partners  of  his  guilt. 
The  fame  has  happened  in  a  thoufand  other  inftances ; 
and  there  are,  I  am  perfuaded,  few  perfons  here  prefent, 
of  any  age  or  experience  in  the  world,  who  cannot  rec- 
colle6l  numbers,  both  of  individuals  and  of  families, 
whofe  peace,  tranquillity,  comfort,  charaders,  and  for- 
tunes, have  been  completely  deftroyed  by  illicit  and 
licentious  connexions  of  this  fort.  Nor  is  this  the  worft. 
The  prefent  effeds  of  thefe  vices,  dreadful  as  they  fome- 
times  are,  cannot  be  compared  witli  the  mifery  which  they 
are  preparing  for  us  hereafter.  The  Scriptures  every 
where  rank  thefe  vices  in  the  number  of  thofe  prffumptuous 
fins,  v/hich,  in  a  future  life,  will  experience  the  fevereil 
marks  of  divine  difpleafure.  The  world  indeed,  treats 
them  with  more  indulgence.  They  are  excufed  and 
palliated,  and  even  defended  on  the  ground  of  human 
frailty,  of  natural  conftitution,  of  ftrong  paflions,  and 
invincible  temptations  ;  and  they  are  generally  confidered 
and  reprcfented  in  various  popular  performances  (efpecial- 
iyin  thofe  imported  from  foreign  countries)  as  aflbciated 
with  many  amiable  virtues,  with  goodnefs  of  heart,  with 
hi^h  principles  of  honour,  with  benevolence,  compaffion, 
humanity,  and  generofity.  But  whatever  gentle  names 
may  be  given  to  fenfuality  and  licentioufners,  whatever 


LECTURE     XIV.  223 

fpecious  apologies  may  be  made  for  them,  whatever  vvit» 
or  talents  may  be  employed  in  rendering  them  popular 
and  fafhionable,  whatever  numbers,  whatever  examples 
may  fan(5lion  or  authorize  them,  it  is  impoflible  that  any 
thing  can  do  away  their  natural  turpitude  and  deformity^ 
or  avert  thofe  punifhments  which  the  Gofpel  has  denounced 
againft  them.  They  are  reprefented  there  as  tilings  that 
ought  not  even  to  be  named  among  Chriftians,  as  defiling 
the  man,  as  warring  againfl  the  foul,  as  grieving  the 
Spirit  of  God,  as  rendering  men  incapable  of  inheriting 
the  kingdom  of  heaven,  asexpofmg  them  to  the  indignation 
of  Him  who  is  of  purer  eyes  than  to  behold  iniquity*. 
And  as  if  men  had  indeavored  in  thofe  days  as  well  as 
in  our  own,  to  foften  and  to  extenuate  and  explain  avray 
the  guilt  of  licentioufnefs,  the  apoftle  adds,  with  great 
folemnity  and  great  earneftnefs,  *'  Let  no  man  deceive  you 
with  vain  words  :  for  becaufe  of  thefe  things  cometh  the 
wrath  of  God  upon  the  children  of  difobediencef ." 

Let  every  man  then  that  pretends  to  be  a  Chriftian, 
and  lives  in  the  habitual  practice  of  the  vices  here  con- 
demned, weigh  well  thefe  tremendous  words.  If  there 
be  any  truth  in  the  Gofpel,  they  will  not  be  vain  words  ; 
nor  will  offences  of  this  nature  ever  pafs  unnoticed  or  un- 
punifhed  by  the  righteous  Governor  of  the  world. 

Thefe  remarks  are  not  introduced  here  without  reafon. 
It  is  the  peculiar  prevalence  of  thefe  very  vices  at  this  mo- 
ment which  demands  fuch  animadverfions  as  thefe  j  a 
prevalence  which  I  infer  not  merely  from  an  imaginary 
eftimate  of  the  low  ftate  of  morals  amongft  us,  founded 
on  rumour,  on  conjecture,  or  mifconllruction,  but  from 
faCts  too  well  afcertained,  and  which  obtrude  themfelves 
on  the  notice  of  every  obferving  mind  J.  I  mean  thofe 
daring  violations  of  the  nuptial  contract,  and  the  frequent 
divorces  refulting  from  them,  which  feem  daily  gaining 
ground  in  this  kingdom.  This  is  a  mofl  melancholy  and 
incontrovertible  proof  of  increafmg  depravity  amongfl  us, 
and  I  am  forry  to  add,  of  depravity  of  the  very  deepeft 

*  Ephes.  V.  3.  Matth.  xv.  18.  i  Pet-  li-  ii.  i  Cor.  vi.  o,  lo. 
Habak.  i.   13, 

f  Ephes.  V.  6,  \  In  the  Spring  of  the  year  1800. 

R 


■^^6  LECTURE     XIV. 

•dye  ;  for  inflances  have  not  long  fince  occurred,  in  wliich 
the  guilt  of  the  parties  too  nearly  refembled  that  of  Herod, 
combining  the  two  atrocious  crimes  of  adultery  and  inceft  I 
Surely  fuch  enormities  as  thefe  are  enough  to  make  us 
tremble,  and  loudly  call  for  the  intefpofition  of  the  legif- 
lature,  left  they  bring  down  upon  us  the  juft  vengeance  of 
an  offended  God.  "  Shall  I  not  vifit  for  thefe  things, 
faith  the  Lord  !  Shall  not  my  foul  be  avenged  on  fuch  a 
nation  as  this*?" 

Another  refle6lion  arifmg  from  this  fliort  hiftory  of 
Herod  and  John  the  Baptift  is  this  ;  that  although,  in  the 
ordinary  courfe  of  divine  adminiftration,  the  punifhment 
of  the  wicked  does  not  always  overtake  them  here,  but  is 
referved  for  the  laft  awful  day  of  account ;  yet  it  fometimes 
happens  (as  I  obferved  in  my  laft  Le<5lure)  that  their 
crimes  draw  after  them  their  juft  recompence,  even  in  the 
prefent  life.  This  was  eminently  the  cafe  of  the  flagitious 
Herod  ;  for  befides  thofe  terrors  of  confcience,  which,  as 
V.x  have  feen,  perpetually  haunted  him,  which  raifed  up 
before  him  terfific  forms  and  agonizing  apprehenfions, 
and  reprefefited  John  the  Baptift  as  rifen  from  the  dead 
to  avenge  his  crimes  ;  we  are  informed  by  the  hiftorian 
that  his  marriage  with  Herodias  drevv'  upon  him  the  refent- 
ment  of  Aretas,  king  of  Arabia  Petraea,  the  father  of 
his  firft  wife,  who  declared  war  againft  him,  and,  in  an 
'engagement  with  Herod's  army,  defeated  it  with  great 
Tiaughter.  This,  fays  the  hiftorian,  the  Jews  confidered 
•as  a  juft  j ad E^ment  of  God  upon  Herod  for  his  murder 
of  John  the  Baptiftf.  And  not  long  after  this,  both  he 
and  Herodias  were  deprived  of  tlieir  kingdom  by  the  Ro- 
man emperor,  and  fent  into  perpetual  banifhment.  And 
it  is  added  by  another  hiftorian;]:,  that  their  daughter 
Salome  met  with  a  violent  and  untimely  death.  Inftances 
like  this  are  intended  to  Ihew,  that  the  Governor  of  the 
tinlverfe,  though  he  has  appointed  a  diftant  period  for  the 
general  diftiibution  of  his  rewards  and  puniftiments,  yet,  • 
in  extraordinary  cafes,  he  will  fometime  interpofe  to  chaf- 
tife  the  bold  offender,  to  aftert  his  fuperintending  provi- 

*  Jer-  V.  9. 

•{■  Jos.  Ant.  L.  xvlii.  c.  5.  s.  1.  1. 

\  Nicephori.  Hist-  Eccles,  L.  1 1.  p.  89. 


LECTURE     XIV.  227 

dence  and  fupreme  dominion  over  all  his  creatures,  and  to 
give  them  the  moft  awful  proofs  that,  from  his  all-fearch- 
ing  eye,  no  wickednefs  can  be  concealed. 

The  remaining  part  of  this  chapter  is  occupied  with  the 
recital  of  two  miracles,  on  which  I  have  only  to  obfer\'e, 
that  they  have  both  of  them  a  fpiritual  as  well  as  a  literal 
meaning,  are  both  of  a  very  extraordinary  nature,  as  calcu- 
lated to  make,  as  they  did,  a  moft  powerful  impreffion  on 
the  minds  of  the  fpedlators ;  thefe  were,  the  feeding  above 
five  thoufand  perfons  with  five  loaves  and  two  fifhes,  and 
our  Saviour's  walking  on  the  fea.  The  firft  of  thefe  had 
a  reference  to  that  fpiritual  food,  that  celeftial  manna,  that 
bread  of  life,  which  our  Lord  was  then  difpenfmg  in  fuch 
abundance  to  tiiofe  that  hungered  and  thirfted  after  right- 
eoufnefs.  The  other  was  meant  to  encourage  the  great 
principle  of  faith  ;  of  triiji  and  reliance  upon  God,  in  oppo- 
fition  to  that  felf-confidence,  that  high  opinion  of  our  ovm. 
ftrength,  which  we  are  too  apt  to  entertain,  and  to  which 
St.  Peter,  above  all  the  other  apoftles,  was  peculiarly 
liable.  When  therefore,  in  confequence  of  his  own  requeft, 
he  was  permitted  to  go  to  Jefus  on  the  water,  and  forget- 
ting immediately  who  was  his  guide  and  fupport,  began 
to  be  afraid  and  to  fmk,  and  called  out  to  his  divine 
mafter  to  fave  him,  our  Lord  gracioufly  ftretched  forth 
his  hand  and  caught  him,  and  faid  unto  him,  "  O  thou  of 
little  faith,  wherefore  didft  thou  doubt  ?'*  A  reproof  well 
calculated  to  convince  him  that  it  was  not  in  proportion  to 
his  own  natural  ftrength,  but  according  to  the  degree  of 
his  faith,  that  he  muft  rife  or  fmk.  And  what  he  fays  to 
Peter,  he  fays  to  all  who  waver  in  their  belief:  "  O  ye  of 
little  faith  why  do  ye  doubt  r" 

But  there  is  another  circumftance  belonging  to  thefe  m.i- 
racles,  which  is  of  great  importance  ;  they  are  very  extra- 
ordinary and  aftonifhing  inftances  of  our  Lord's  power 
over  nature,  and  of  fuch  a  kind  as  to  admit  of  no  poffibili- 
ty  of  being  counterfeited.  And  accordingly  we  find  tliat 
although  fome  cheats  have  pretended  to  cure  difeafes  mi- 
raculoufly,  and  fome  have  even  attempted  to  raife  the 
dead,  yet  no  impoftor  I  believe  has  ever  yet  been  i^o  bold 
as  to  undertake  to  feed  five  thoufand  people  at  once  v/ith 
five  loaves  and  tv/o  fifhes,  or  to  walk  upon  the  Tea.     And 


228  LECTURE     XIV. . 

the  reafon  is  plain.  It  would  not  be  very  eafy  to  perfuade 
five  thoufand  people  that  they  had  been  plentifully  fed, 
when  in  fa6c  they  had  received  no  nourilhment  at  all ;  and 
it  v/ould  be  rather  too  dangerous  an  experiment  for  any 
man,  not  really  fupported  by  the  hand  of  God,  to  attempt 
v/alking  on  the  fea,  when  he  cannot  but  knov^-  that  the  lofs 
of  hfe  muft  be  the  inevitable  confequence  of  it.  Indeed 
this  rS:  has  ahvays  been  confidered  as  utterly  beyond  all 
human  power  to  atchieve  ;  accordingly  ttao  feet  'walking 
vpon  nvater  was  an  Egyptian  hieroglyphic  to  denote  Impof- 
JihiUly,  And  Job  reprefents  the  power  of  treading  on  the 
waves'  of  the  fea  as  a  diiHnguifhing  mark  and  attribute  of 
the  Deity*.  Yet  this  did  Jeliis  do  ;  this  impoffibility  did  he 
accompliih  :  a  moft  inconteftible  proof  that  God  was  with 
him.  And  in  fac^,  this  m.iracle  feemxs  to  have  made  a 
ftronger  imprefRon  on  the  minds  of  his  difciples  that  any 
other  recorded  in  the  gcfpels,  even  than  that  of  railing 
the  dead  ;  for  we  are  told  in  St.  Markf  5  that  when  our 
Lord  ViTent  up  into  the  fhip  from  ivalkijig  on  the  fea,  the 
difciples  were  fore  amazed  in  themfelves  beyond  meafire,  and 
wondered.  The  v/ords  in  the  oriQ-inal  are  lllli  fcronp-er  : 
indeed  fo  ftrong,  that  it,  is  impoffible  for  the  Englilh  lan- 
guage to  exprefs  all  their  force.  In  comparifon  of  this 
miracle,  even  that  of  the  loaves  and  the  fifhes  feems  to 
have  appeared  nothing  in  the  eyes  of  the  difciples;  for 
St.  Mark  tells  us,  that  tliey  confidered  not  the  miracle  of 
the  loaves,  for  their  heart  was  hardened  ;  but  at  the  aft  of 
v^^alking  on  the  fea  they  v/ere  amazed  beyond  meafiirc  ;  they 
were  overwhelmed  and  overcome  with  this  aftonifhing 
difplay  of  divine  power  ;  they  fell  inftantly  at  the  feet  of 
Jefus,  and  worfliipped  him  ;  and  exclaimed,  as  every  one 
who  confiders  this  ftupendous  miracle  mufl  do,  "  Of  a  truth 
thou  art  the  Son  of  God  !'* 

*  Job  ix.  8,         t  Chap.  vl. 


••<  <  <  ■<  •<  <  ■<■<  ■<■<  ■<  .<..<•<.<..<•.<  •<■<■<  .<..<>..)...>..>..>...>..>..>.>..>..>.>..>..>„>..>..>..>.  >..>..>..,.<..,: 


LECTURE     XV. 


MATTHEW  xvi!. 


I 


SHALL  now  requcfl  your  attention  to  a  very- 
remarkable  part  of  our  Saviour's  liiftcry,  that  which  is 
called  by  the  evangelift  his  transfiguration,  and  which 
is  related  in  the  feventeenth  chapter  of  St.  Mattliew.  It 
fo  happens,  that  many  years  ago  I  turned  my  thoughts  very 
much  to  this  particular  fubjedl  in  the  facred  writings,  and 
ventured  (though  without  my  name)  to  lay  my  fenti- 
ments  concerning  it  before  the  pubhc.  I  could  have 
v/ifhed  therefore  to  have  excufed  myfelf  from  repeating 
here  any  part  of  what  I  have  faid  elfewhere,  and  to  have 
paffed  over  this  incident  unnoticed.  But  when  I  confid- 
ered  that  this  tranfaclion  is  of  a  very  peculiar  and  extra- 
ordinary nature  ;  that  there  are  circumftances  attending  it 
which  cannot  fail  to  excite  the  curiofity  of  an  inquifitive 
mind ;  that  there  are  diiiiculties  in  it  which  (land  in  need 
of  a  folutiouy  and  conclufions  to  be  drawn  from  it  of  con- 
fiderable  utility  and  importance  ;  v/hen  I  confidered 
further,  that  much  the  greateft  part  of  this  audience  had 
probably  never  feen  or  even  heard  of  what  I  had  formerly 
written  on  this  fubject ;  I  determined  not  to  omit  fo 
mateiial  a  part  of  the  tafk  I  am  engaged  in,  but  to  give 
you  what  I  conceive  to  be  a  true  explanation  of  this  inter- 
efliing  event.  And  I  now  feel  the  lefs  difficulty  in  doing 
this,  becaufe,  upon  a  careful  review  of  that  interpretation, 
after  an  interval  of  twelve  years,  I  am  ftill  convinced  of 
its  truth,  and  have  had  the  additional  fatisfaclion  of 
finding  it  confirmed  by  the  authority  of  fome  learned  and 
judicious  commentators,  whofe  opinions  on  one  or  two 
leading  principles  coincide  with  my  own  ;  but  whofe  obfer- 
vations  I  had  not  feen  (having  confulted  but  very  few 
expofitors  on  the  fubje(rt)  when  my  effay  went  to  the  prefs.. 


230  L  E  C  T  U  R  E     XV. 

The  relation  of  this  fmgular  tranfadion  is  given  us  by 
three  out  of  four  evangelifts,  Matthew,  Mark,  and  Luke, 
and  alluded  to  in  the  writings  of  the  fourth.  They  all 
agree  in  the  main  points.  There  is  no  material  variation, 
and  not  the  leaft  contradidlion  between  them.  But,  as  is 
very  natural,  where  different  perfons  relate  the  fame  faft 
(and  as  indeed  muft  generally  happen  where  the  ftory  is 
not  concerted  among  them)  a  few  particulars  are  taken 
notice  of  by  fome  which  are  paffed  over  in  filence  by 
others.     St.  Mattliew's  account  of  it  is  as  follows  : 

"  And  after  fix  days  Jefus  taketh  Peter,  James,  and 
John  his  brother,  and  bringeth  them  up  into  a  high  moun- 
tain apart,  and  was  transfigured  before  them  ;  and  his  face 
did  fhine  as  the  fun,  and  his  raiment  was  white  as  the 
light.  And  behold  there  appeared  unto  them  Mofes  and 
Elias  talking  with  him.  Then  anfwered  Peter,  and  faid 
unto  Jefus,  Lord,  it  is  good  for  us  to  be  here  ;  if  thou 
wilt,  let  us  make  three  tabernacles,  one  for  thee,  and  one 
for  Mofes,  and  one  for  Elias.  While  he  yet  fpake,  behold 
a  bright  cloud  overfhadowed  them  ;  and  behold  a  voice 
out  of  the  cloud,  which  faid.  This  is  my  beloved  Son,  in 
whom  I  am  well  pleafed  ;  hear  ye  him.  And  when  the 
difciples  heard  it,  they  fell  on  their  face,  and  were  fore 
afraid.  And  Jefus  came  and  touched  them,  and  faid, 
Arife,  and  be  not  afraid.  And  when  they  had  lifted  up 
their  eyes,  they  faw  no  man  fave  Jefus  only.  And  as  they 
came  down  from  the  mount,  Jefus  charged  them,  faying, 
tell  the  vifion  to  no  man,  until  the  Son  of  man  be  rifen 
again  from  the  dead. 

"  And  his  difciples  afked  him,  faying,  Why  then  fay 
the  fcribes,  that  Elias  muft  firft  come  ?  And  Jefus 
Anfwered  and  faid  unto  them,  Elias  fhall  truly  firft  come, 
and  reftore  all  things.  But  I  fay  unto  you,  that  Elias 
is  come  already,  and  they  knew  him  not,  but  have  done 
unto  him  whatfoever  they  lifted :  likewife  alfo  fhall  the 
Son  of  man  fuffer  of  them.  Then  the  difciples  underftood 
that  he  fpake  unto  them  of  John  the  Baptift." 

Such  is  the  hiftory  which  the  evangelift  gives  us  of  the 
transfiguration ;  and  on  the  very  firft  view  of  it,  every  one 


LECTURE     XV.  23r. 

muft  fee  that  a  tranfadion  of  fo  uncommon  and  fplendid 
a  nature  could  not  be  intended  merely  to  furprize  and 
amufe  the  difciples.  There  muft  have  been  fome  great 
objed:  in  view ;  fome  end  to  be  obtained,  wortliy  of  the 
magnificent  apparatus  made  ufe  of  to  accomplifli  it. 

Now  there  were^ ,  1  conceive  (befides  fome  collateral 
and  fubordinate  defigi;is)  two  principal  and  important 
pur|)ofes,  which  were  meant  to  be  anfwered  by  this  illuf« 
trious  fcene. 

The  firft  was  to  fet  before  the  eyes  of  the  difciples  a  infihle 
andjigurative  reprefentation  of  Chr'iji''s  coming  in  glory  to  judge 
the  ivorld,  and  to  reward,  nuith  .  everlafitng  felicity^  all  his^ 
faithful  fervants. 

In  order  to  prove  this,  and  at  the  fame  time  to  bring  to 
the  reader's  view  thofe  circumftances  which  preceded, 
and  in  fome  degree  gave  occafion  to  this  celeftial  vifion, 
it  will  be  necefiary  to  look  back  to  the  chapter  immediately 
before  that  in  which  the  transfiguration  is  related. 

In  the  21ft  verfe  of  the  fixteenth  chapter  we  find, 
that  Jefus  then,  for  the  firft  time,  thought  fit  to  give 
fome  intimations  to  his  difciples  of  the  ftrange  and  extra- 
ordinary fcenes  he  was  fbon  to  pafs  through  ;  his  fufferings, 
his  death,  and  his  refurredion  ;  things  of  which,  before 
this  declaration,  they  feem  not  to  have  had  the  fmalleft 
conception  or  fufpicion. 

"  From  that  time  forth  began  Jefus  to  ftiew  to  his 
difciples  how  that  he  muft  go  to  Jerufalem,  and  fuffer 
many  things  of  the  elders  and  chief  priefts  and  fcribes,- 
and  be  killed,  and  raifed  again  the  third  day*.'' 

This  information,  fo  perfectly  nev/  and  unexpected  to 
the  difciples,  and  fo  deftru<5live  of  all  the  fond  hopes  they 
had  hitherto  indulged,  overwhelmed  them  with  aftonifh- 
ment  and  grief.  And  St.  Peter,  whofe  natural  warmth 
and  eagemefs  of  temper  generally  led  him  both  to  feel 
fuch  mortifications  more  fenfibly,  and  to  exprefs  hi^- 
feelings  more  promptly  and  more  forcibly,   than  any  of 

*  Matth.  xiv.  %i, 


232  L  E  C  T  U  R  E     XV. 

the  reH:,  v/as  To  fhocked  at  what  he  had  juft  heard,  that 
«  he  took  Jefus,  and  began  to  rebuke  him,  laying.  Be  it 
far  from  thee,  Lord ;  this  fhall  not  be  unto  thee."  Our 
Saviour,  who  faw  every  thing  that  pafied  in  his  mind, 
and  perceived,  probably,  that  this  expoftulation  took  its 
rife  more  from  difappointed  intereft  and  ambition  than 
from  a  generous  concern  for  his  mafter's  credit  and  honour, 
gave  him  an  immediate  and  fevere  reproof.  "  Get  thee 
behind  me,  Satan,  for  thou  art  an  offence  to  me  ;  for  thou 
favoured  not  the  things  that  be  of  God,  but  thofe  that  be 
of  men." 

He  then  proceeded  to  Ihew,  not  only  that  he  himfelf 
muft  fuffer  perfecution,  but  that  all  thofe  who  would  at 
that  tim.e  come  after  him,  and  Ihare  with  him  the  arduous 
and  dangerous  tafk  of  fcwing  the  firft  feeds  of  the  Gof- 
pel,  "  niuft  deny  them.felves,  and  take  up  their  crofs,  and 
follow  him."  But  then,  to  fupport  them  under  thofe 
fevere  injunctions,  he  cheers  them  immediately  with  a 
brighter  fcene  of  tilings,  and  with  a  profped  of  his  future 
glory,  and  their  future  recompence.  "  The  Son  of  man 
riiall  come  in  the  glory  of  his  Father  with  his  angels,  and 
then  fnall  he  reward  every  man  according  to  his  works." 
And  he  adds,  "  Verily  I  fay  unto  you,  there  be  fome 
Handing  here  which  fhall  not  tafle  of  death  till  they  fee 
the  Son  of  man  coming  in  his  kingdom."  The  meaning 
of  thefe  laft  words  I  fhall  enquire  into  hereafter.  But  the 
evident  tendency  of  the  whole  pafTage  is  to  prepare  the 
minds  of  his  difciples  for  the  cruel  treatment  which  both 
he  and  they  were  to  undergo,  and  at  the  fame  time  to  raife 
their  drooping  fpirits,  by  fetting  before  their  eyes  his  own 
exaltation,  and  their  glorious  rewards  in  another  life. 

This  difcourfe,  however,  he  probably  found  had  not 
fufEciently  fubdued  their  prejudices,  and  reconciled  them 
to  his  (late  of  humiliation  ;  and  therefore  he  determined  to 
try  a  m.ethod  of  impreffing  them  with  j  after  fentiments, 
which  he  frequently  had  recourfe  to  on  fimilar  occafions  ; 
and  that  was,  reprefenting  to  them,  by  ^ftgnlficant  aa'wn, 
what  he  had  already  explained  by  words. 

Accordingly,  within  a  few  days  after  the  foregoing  con- 
verfation,   he  taketh  witli  him  Peter,  James,   and  John, 


LECTURE    XV.- 

and  bringeth  them  up  into  a  high  mountain  (probably 
Mount  Tabor)  apart.  Very  fanciful  reafons  have  been 
affigned  by  fome  of  the  commentators  for  his  taking  with 
him  only  three  of  his  difciples.  But  all  that  it  feems 
neceflary  to  fay  on  this  head  is,  that  as  the  law  required 
no  more  than  two  or  three  v/itneiTes  to  conftitute  a  regular 
and  judicial  proof,  our  Saviour  frequently  chofe  to  have 
only  this  number  of  witnelTes  prefent  at  fome  of  the  moil 
important  and  interefting  fcenes  of  his  life.  The  three 
difciples,  whom  he  now  feleded,  were  thofe  that  generally 
attended  him  on  fuch  occafions,  and  who  fecm  to  have 
been  diftinguifhed  as  his  mo(i  intimate  and  confidential 
friends.  St.  John,  we  know,  w^as  fo  in  an  eminent  degree. 
St.  James,  his  brother,  would,  from  that  near  connexion, 
probably  be  brought  more  frequently  under  his  mafter's 
notice  5  and  as  St.  Peter  was  the  very  perfon  who  had  ex- 
prefTed  himfelf  with  fo  much  indignation  on  the  fubjeft  of 
cur  Saviour's  fufferings,  it  was  highly  proper  and  necelTa- 
ry  that  he  fhould  be  admitted  to  a  fpedacle,  which  was 
purpofely  calculated  to  calm  thofe  emotions,  and  remove 
that  difguft  which  the  firft  mention  of  them  had  produced 
in  his  mind. 

With  thefe  companions,  then,  Jefas  afcended  the  moun- 
tain, and  w^as  transfiguied  before  them  ;  "  and  behold 
there  appeared  Mofes  and  EHas  talking  with  him."  They 
were  not  only  feen  by  the  difciples,  but  they  were  heard 
alfo  converfmg  with  Jefus.  This  is  a  circumftance  of  great 
importance,  efpecially  v/hen  we  are  told  what  the  fubje^t 
of  their  converfation  was.  St.  Luke  gives  us  this  uieful 
piece  of  infoi-mation  ;  he  fays,  that  "  they  fpake  of  our 
Lord's  deceafe,  which  he  fnould  accomplifh  at  Jerufalem.'' 
The  very  mention  of  Chrift's  fufferings  and  death  by  fach 
men  as  Mofes  and  Ellas,  without  any  marks  of  furprize 
or  diffatisfadion,  v/as  of  itfelf  fuScient  to  occafion  a  great 
change  in  the  fentiments  of  the  difciples  refpeding  thofe 
fufferings,  and  to  foften  thofe  prejudices  of  their's  againfl 
them,  the  removal  of  Vv^hich  feems  to  have  been  one  of  the 
more  immediate  objefts  of  the  transfiguration.  But  if  we 
fuppofe  further  (what  is  far  from  being  improbable)  that 
in  the  courfe  of  the  converfation  feverai  interefling  particu» 
lars  refipedting  cur  Saviour's  crucifixion  were  brought  un^. 
R  2 


^^  L  E  C  T  U  R  E    XV. 

der  difcuflion  5  if  they  entered  at  any  length  into  that  im- 
portant fubjedt,  the  great  ivork  of  our  redemption ;  if  they 
touched  upon  the  nature,  the  caufes,  and  the  confequen- 
ces  of  it ;  the  pardon  of  fm,  the  reftitution  to  God*s 
favour,  the  triumph  over  death,  and  the  gift  of  eternal 
life ;  if  they  fhewed  that  the  fufferings  of  Chrift  were 
prefigured  in  the  law,  and  foretold  by  the  prophets  ;  it  is 
eafy  to  fee,  that  topics  fuch  as  thefe  muft  tend  ftill  further 
to  open  the  eyes,  and  remove  the  prepoffeflions  of  his  dif- 
ciples ;  and  the  more  fo,  becaufe  they  would  feem  to  arife 
incidentally  in  a  difcourfe  between  other  perfons  cafually 
overheard ;  whigh  having  no  appearance  of  delign  or 
profefTed  oppofition  in  it,  would  be  apt  to  make  a  deeper 
impreffion  on  their  minds  than  a  dired  and  open  attack 
upon  their  prejudices. 

But  the  circumftance  which  would,  probably,  be  moft 
efFedlual  in  correding  the  erroneous  ideas  of  his  difciples 
on  this  head,  was  the  ad  of  the  transfiguration  itfelf,  the 
aftonifhing  change  it  produced  in  the  whole  of  our  Lord's 
external  appearance. 

From  the  expreffions  made  ufe  of  by  the  feveral  evan- 
gelifts,  this  change  appears  to  have  been  a  very  illuftrious 
one.  They  inform  us,  that  "  as  our  Saviour  prayed,  the 
fafliion  of  his  countenance  was  changed ;  his  face  did 
ftiine  as  the  fun,  and  his  raiment  became  exceeding  white 
and  gliftering  ;  as  white  as  fnow,  as  white  as  the  light, 
fo  as  no  fuller  on  earth  could  whiten  it."  Now  Chrift 
having  affumed  this  fplendid  and  glorious  appearance,  at 
the  very  time  when  Mofes  and  Elias  were  converfmg  with 
him  on  his  fuflFerings,  it  was  a  'vtftble  and  ftriking  proof  to 
his  difciples,  that  thofe  fufferings  were  not,  as  they  ima- 
gined, any  real  difcredit  aad  difgrace  to  him,  but  were 
perfectly  confiftent  with  the  dignity  of  his  character,  and 
the  higheft  ftate  of  glory  to  which  he  could  be  exalted. 

But  further  ftill;  Jefus  had  (in  the  converfation  men- 
tioned in  the  preceding  chapter)  told  his  difciples,  that 
the  Son  of  man  fhould  come  in  the  glory  of  his  Father, 
with  his  holy  angels,  to  judge  the  world.  The  fcene 
on  the  mount  therefore,  which  fo  foon  followed  that  convert 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E     XV.  235 

fation,  was  probably  meant  to  convey  to  them  fome  idea 
and  fome  evidence  of  his  coming  in  glory  at  the  great  day  of 
judgment,  of  which  his  transfiguration  was,  perhaps,  as 
juft  a  pi<Sure  and  exemplification  as  human  light  could 
bear. 

It  is,  indeed,  defcribed  in  nearly  the  fame  terms  that 
St.  John  in  the  Revelations  applies  to  the  Son  of  man  in 
his  Jiate  of  glory  in  heaven.  "  He  was  clothed,  fays  he, 
with  a  garment  down  to  the  foot.  His  head  and  his  hair 
were  white  like  wool,  white  as  fnow  ;  and  his  countenance 
was  as  the  fun  fhineth  in  his  ftrength."  It  is  remarkable, 
that  St.  Luke  calls  his  appearance,  after  being  transfigur- 
ed, his  glory.  St.  John,  who  was  likewife  prefent  at  this 
appearance,  gives  it  the  fame  name.  "  We  beheld  his 
gloryi  as  of  the  only  begotten  of  his  Father."  And  St. 
Peter,  who  was  another  witnefs  to  this  tranfa6lion  on  the 
mount,  refers  to  it  by  a  fimilar  expreflion.  *•  For  he  re- 
ceived, fays  that  Apoille,  from  God  the  Father,  honor 
and  glory,  when  there  came  fuch  a  voice  to  him  from  the 
excellent  glory,  this  is  my  beloved  Son  in  whom  I  am  well 
pleafed*."  There  can  hardly,  therefore  remain  any 
doubt,  but  that  the  glory  which  Chrijl  received  from  the  Fa^ 
ther  on  the  mountain,  was  meant  to  be  a  reprefentation  of 
his  coming  in  the  glory  of  his  Father,  with  his  holy  angels, 
at  the  end  of  the  world  ;  which  is  one  of  the  topics  touch- 
ed upon  in  the  preceding  chapter. 

Another  thing  there  mentioned  was  our  Saviour's  refur- 
region.  Of  this,  indeed,  there  is  no  dire<5t  fymbol  in  the 
transfiguration  :  but  it  is  evidently  implied  in  that  tranf- 
adlion  ;  becaufe  Jefus  is  there  reprefented  in  his  glorified, 
celeftial  ftate,  Vvhich  being  in  the  natural  order  of  time 
fubfequent  to  his  refuiTeflion,  that  event  muft  naturally 
be  fuppofed  to  have  previoufly  taken  place. 

But  though  this  great  event  is  only  indiredlly  alluded  to 
here,  yet  thofe  m^oft  important  doctrines,  which  are  found- 
ed upon  it,  a  general  refirreEiion  and  a  day  of  retributiony 
are  exprefsly  reprefented  in  the  transfiguration. 

*  2  Pet,  i,  17. 


236  L  E  C  T  U  R  E     XV. 

In  the  fixteenth  chapter  of  St.  Matthew,  Chrift  tells 
his  difciples,  that  when  "  he  comes  in  the  glory  of  his 
Father  with  the  holy  angels,  he  will  reward  every  man 
according  to  his  works*  :'*  From  whence  it  neceflarily  fol- 
lows that  every  man  who  is  dead  fhall  rife  from  the  grave. 
And  in  confirmation  of  both  thefe  truths,  there  are  two 
juft  and  righteous  men,  Mofes  and  Elias,  -who  had  many 
years  before  departed  out  of  the  world,  brought  back  to 
it  again,  and  reprefented  (as  we  fhall  fee  hereafter)  in  a 
ftate  of  glory.  That  they  actually  appeared  in  their  own 
proper  perfons  there  is  not  the  leaft  reafon  to  doubt.  Gro- 
tius  even  goes  fo  far  as  to  affirm,  that  their  bodies  were 
refer'ved  for  this  very  purpofe.  But  there  is  no  neceffity 
and  no  ground  for  this  imagination.  For  though,  indeed, 
the  fepulchre  of  Mofes  was  not  known,  yet  his  body  was 
actually  buried  in  a  valley  in  the  land  of  Moab,  and  there- 
fore mull  have  feen  corruption ;  and  as  the  whole 
tranfadlion  was  miraculous,  it  was  juft  as  eafy  to  Omnip- 
otence to  reftore  life  and  form  to  a  body  mouldered  into 
duft,  as  to  re-animate  a  body  that  was  preferved  uncor- 
rupted  and  entire ;  and,  indeed,  was  a  much  exadter  em- 
blem of  our  own  refurreclion.  We  may,  however,  read- 
ily admit  what  fome  learned  men  have  juftly  obferved, 
that  Elias,  having  been  carried  up  into  heaven  without 
undergoing  death,  he  was  here  a  proper  reprefentative  of 
thofe  who  lliall  be  found  alive  at  the  day  of  judgment,  as 
Mofes  is  of  thofe  who  had  died,  and  are  raifed  to  life 
again.  And  his  appearance  a  fecond  time  on  earth,  after 
he  had  been  fo  many  ages  dead  and  buried,  mull  have 
been  a  convincing  proof  to  the  difciples  (had  they  duly 
attended  to  it)  of  the  poffibility  of  a  refurredion. 

And  what  is  no  lefs  important,  the  manner  In  which 
both  Mofes  and  Elias  appeared  on  this  occafion,  afforded 
the  difciples  an  occular  demonftration  of  a  day  of  retribu- 
tion^ agreeably  to  what  their  divine  Mailer  had  a  few  days 
before  told  them,  that  he  'would  reivard  every  man  according 
to  his  'Works. 

For  we  are  informed,  that  both  Mofes  and  Elias  ap- 
peared alfo  in  glory  ;  a  glory  fomewhat  fimilar,  we  may 

*  Ver.  %y. 


LECTURE     XV,  237 

fuppofe,  though  far  Inferior,  to  that  with  which  Chrift 
was  invefted.  Like  him  they  were  probably  clothed  in 
raiments  of  unufual  whitenefs  and  fplendor  j  and  the  fafh- 
ion  of  tlieir  countenances  might  alfo  be  changed  to  fome- 
thing  more  bright  and  illuftrious.  Now  this  would  be  a. 
juft  reprefentation  of  the  glorified Jiate  of  faints  in  heaven, 
of  thofe  who  had  been  rewarded  according  to  tlieir  works. 
For  we  find  thofe  holy  men,  who  have  paffed  viftorioufly 
through  their  Chrlftian  warfare,  defcribed  by  St.  John  as 
clothed  in  ivhite  rai?ner?ts*  ;  and  by  St.  Matthew,  ^sjhinirig 
forth  like  the  fun  in  the  kingdom  of  their  Fatherf . 

The  glory  of  Chrijl  therefore  on  the  mountain,  was  a 
fymbol  of  his  exaltation  to  be  the  judge  of  the  earth  ;  and 
tlie  glory  of  Mofes  and  Elias  was  an  emblem  of  the  rewards 
given  to  the  righteous  in  heaven. 

When  all  thefe  circumftances  are  put  together,  they 
throw  confiderable  light  over  the  concluding  part  of 
Chriil's  converfation,  which  has  not  yet  been  noticed. 
Verily  I  fay  unto  you^  there  be  fome  flanding  here  nvhich  Jhall 
not  tafle  of  death  till  they  fee  the  Son  of  man  coming  in  his  king- 
dom\.  This  has  commonly  been  fuppofed  to  refer  to  th» 
fignal  manifeftation  of  Chrift^s  pov:er  in  tlie  deiirudion  of 
Jerufalem.  But  we  know  of  no  one  of  Chrift's  difciples 
that  furvived  this  event  except  St.  John  ;  and  our  Saviour 
here  fpeaks  of  more  than  one.  But  befides  tliis,  in  the 
27th  verfe  of  tliis  chapter,  we  are  told  that  the  Son  of  man 
Jhall  come  in  the  glory  of  his  Father,  to  reward  every  man  ac" 
cording  to  his  nvorks.  This,  undoubtedly,  relates  to  Chrill's 
final  advent  to  judge  the  world.  When,  therefore,  it 
immediately  follows  in  the  very  next  verfe.  Verily,  I  fay 
unto  you,  that  there  be  fome  Handing  here,  which  Ihail 
not  tafte  of  death  till  they  fee  the  Son  of  man  coming  in  hi^ 
kingdom  ;  is  it  not  moft  natural,  is  it  not  almoft  neceifary 
to  underftand  thefe  fimilar  expreffions  as  relating  to  the 
fame  great  event  ? 

*  Rev-  iii.  5.  f  Matth.  xiii.  43- 

\  Matthew,  xvi.  28. — St.  Mark  fays,  "  Till  they  have  feen  the 
kingdom  cf  God  come  with  power."— St,  Luke,  "  till  they  fee  the 
kingdom  of  God." 


238  L  E  C  T  U  R  E    XV. 

But  did  Chrift  then  mean  to  fay  here  that  fome  of  his 
difciples  ftiould  live  till  the  day  of  judgment  ?  Moft  aflur- 
edly  not.  He  meant  only  to  intimate  that  a  few  of  them 
fliould  before  their  deatli,  be  favored  with  a  reprefenfation 
of  the  glorious  appearance  of  Chrift  and  his  faints  on  that 
awful  day.  And  this  illuftrious  fcene  was  adlually  dif- 
playo^  to  three  of  them,  about  fix  days  after,  in  the  tranf- 
figuration  on  the  mountain.  Indeed  St.  Peter  himfelf, 
who  was  prefent  at  the  transfiguration,  plainly  alludes  to 
it,  in  a  manner  which  powerfully  confirms  this  opinion. 
"  We  have  not,"  fays  he,  "  followed  cunningly  devifed 
fables,  when  we  made  known  unto  you  the  power  and  com- 
ing of  our  Lord  Jefus  Chrift."  That  is,  our  Lord's  com- 
ing in  his  kingdom  with  ponuer  and  glory  and  majejly,  to 
judge  the  world.  And  how  does  St.  Peter  here  prove 
that  he  v/ill  fo  come  ?  Why,  by  declaring  that  he  and  the 
two  other  difciples,  James  and  John,  were  eye-tvitnejfes  of 
his  mqjejiy  ;  that  is,  they  adlually  faw  him  on  the  mount, 
invefted  with  majejly  and  glory  fimilar  to  that  which  he 
would  afTume  in  his  kingdom  at  the  laft  day.  "  For," 
continues  the  apoftle,  "  he  received  from  God  the  Father, 
honor  and  glory,  when  there  came  fuch  a  voice  to  him  from 
the  excellent  glory,  This  is  my  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I 
am  well  pleafed ;  and  this  voice,  which  came  from  heav- 
en, we  heard,   'when  ive  were  with  him  in  the  holy  mount*" 

This  is  St.  Peter's  own  comment  on  the  transfiguration, 
in  which  he  exprefsly  compares  Chrift's  glory  and  majejly 
on  the  mount,  to  that  which  he  will  difplay  in  his  final 
advent  ;  and  confiders  the  former  as  an  emblem,  an  ear- 
jieft,  and  a  proof  of  the  latter. 

It  is  then  evident,  I  think,  from  the  foregoing  obferva- 
tions,  that  the  fcene  upon  the  mountain  was  2.fymholical 
reprefentatton  of  Chri/l^s  coming  in  glory  to  judge  the  nvorld,  and 
of  the  rewards  which  Jlo all  then  he  given  to  the  ?-ighteouSf  to- 
pics which  had  been  torched  upon  in  Chrift's  difcourfe 
with  his  difciples  fix  days  before  ;  and  that  one  great  ob- 
je<5l  of  this  exprefiive  action,  as  well  as  of  that  converfa- 
tion,  was  to  reconcile  the  minds  of  his  difciples  to  the  fuf- 
ferings  which  both  he  and  they  were  to  undergo,  by  Ihew- 

*  a  Pet.  i.  16,  17-  iS. 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E    XV.  239 

ing  that  they  were  preparatory  and  fubfervient  to  his  fu- 
ture glor)^,  and  their  future  rewards. 

The  other  great  purpofe  of  the  adllon  on  the  mount  was, 
I  apprehend,  to  fignify,  in  a  figurative  manner,  the  cejfa- 
tion  of  the  Jewi/b,  and  the  commencement  of  the  Chrijiian  dif- 
penfation. 

It  appears  to  have  been  one  prevailing  prejudice  among 
the  difciples,  that  the  whole  Mofaical  law,  the  ceremonial 
as  well  as  the  moral,  was  to  continue  in  full  force  under 
the  Gofpel ;  and  that  the  authority  of  Mofes  and  the  pro- 
phets was  not,  in  any  refpedl,  to  give  way  on  the  eftab- 
lifliment  of  Chriftianity,  but  to  be  placed  on  an  equal  foot- 
ing with  that  of  Chrift. 

To  correct  this  erroneous  opinion,  no  lefs  than  to  van- 
quifh  their  prepoffeffion  againft  the  fufferings  of  Chrift, 
(as  already  explained)  was  the  fcene  of  the  transfigura- 
tion prefented  to  the  three  chofen  difciples,  Peter,  James, 
and  John. 

There  are  feveral  remarkable  circumftances  attending 
that  event,  which  lead  us  to  this  conclufion. 

Mofes  and  Elias  muft  certainly  be  allowed  to  be  very 
natural  and  proper  reprefentatives  of  ^q  law  2iTidlhe  pro- 
phets. 

When  the  tliree  difciples  faw  thefe  illuftrious  perfons 
converfmg  familiarly  with  Jefus,  it  probably  confirmed 
them  in  their  opinion,  that  they  were  to  be  confidered  as  of 
equal  dignity  and  authority  with  him  ;  and  under  this  im- 
preilion,  Peter  immediately  addrefled  himfelf  to  Jefus,  and 
faid,  "  Lord,  it  is  good  for  us  to  be  here  ;  and  if  thou 
wilt,  let  us  make  here  three  tabernacles,  one  for  thee,  and 
one  for  Mofes,  and  one  for  Elias.''  The  full  meaning  of 
which  exclamation  was,  "  What  greater  happinefs,  Lordy 
can  we  experience  than  to  continue  here  in  the  prefence  of 
three  fuch  great  and  excellent  perfons !  Here  then  let  us 
for  ever  remain  !  Here  let  us  eredt  three  tents,  for  thee, 
for  Mofes,  and  Elias,  that  you  may  all  make  this  the  con- 


M6  LECTURE     XV. 

ftant  place  of  your  abode,  and  that  we  may  always  con- 
tinue  under  the  protedion  and  government,  and  united 
EMPIRE  of  our  three  illnftrious  lords  and  mafters,  whofe 
foveteign  laws  and  commands  we  are  equally  bound  to 
ob^y !" 

The  anfwer  to  this  extraordinary  propofal  was  inftantly 
given  both  by  a6i:icn  and  by  words.  "  While  he  yet 
fpake,  behold  a  bright  cloud  overfhadowed  them  ;  and 
behold  a  voice  out  of  the  cloud,  which  faid,  This  is  my 
beloved  Son,    in  whom    I  am  well  pleafed  ;   hear,  ye 


The  CLOUD  is  the  well-known  token  of  the  divine  pre- 
fence  under  the  law  ;  many  inftances  of  it  occur  in  the 
Old  Teftament,  but  more  particularly  at  the  giving  of 
the  laAV  on  Mount  Sinai.  On  the  mountain  where  our 
Saviour  was  transfigured,  a  new  law  was  declared  to  have 
taken  place  ;  and  therefore  God  again  appears  in  a  cloud. 
But  there  is  one  remarkable  diiFerence  between  thefe  two 
manifeftations  of  the  divine  prefence.  On  Mount  Sinai 
the  cloud  was  darh  and  thick :  "  and  there  were  thunders  and 
lightnings,  and  the  voice  of  the  trumpet  exceeding  loud, 
and  all  the  people  that  v^^ere  in  the  camp  tremhkd^,^*  At 
the  transfiguration,  on  the  contrary,  the  cloud  was  bright, 
the  whple  fcene  was  luminous  and  tranfporting,  and  noth- 
ing was  heard  but  the  mild  paternal  voice  of  the  Almighty 
expreffing  his  delight  in  his  beloved  Son.  Thefe  flriking 
differences  in  the  two  appearances  evidently  point  out  the 
di"fferent  tempers  of  the  two  difpenfations,  of  which  the 
former,  from  its  feverity,  was  more  calculated  to  excite 
terror  ;  the  latter,  from  its  gentlenefs,  to  infpire  love. 

This  circumRance  alone,  therefore,  indicated  a  happy 
change  in  the  divine  ceconomy  ;  but  the  gracious  words 
Which  iflued  from  the  cloud,  moft  clearly  explained  the 
meaning  of  what  was  pafling  before  the  eyes  of  the  difci* 
pies,  "  This  is  my  beloved  Sod,  in  whom  I  am  well  pleaf- 
ed :  HEAR  YE  HIM."  "  Tliis  is  my  Son,  not  as  Mo{(^s 
and  all  the  prophets  were,  mj  few  ants.     Him,  and  him 

*  Exod.  xix,   i6. 


LECTURE     XV.  241 

only,  you  are  now  to  hear.  He  is  from  henceforth  to  be 
your  lord,  your  legiflatcr,  and  your  king.  The  evangel- 
ical law  being  eftablilhed,  the  ceremonial  law  muft  ceafe  ; 
and  Moses  and  the  Prophets  muft  give  way  to  Chilist." 
With  this  declaration  the  conclufion  of  the  whole  fcene  on 
the  mountain  perfedtly  harmonizes.  Mofes  and  Elias  in- 
ftantly  difappear,  and  "  when  the  difciples  lift  up  their 
eyes,  they  fee  no  man  fave  Jefus  only.'^  The  former  ob- 
jeds  of  their  veneration  are  no  more.  Chrift  remains 
alone  their  unrivalled  and  undifputed  fovereign. 

In  fupport  of  this  interpretation  it  may  be  further  ob- 
ferved,  that  there  was  reafon  to  expect,  about  tliat  time, 
fome  fuch  declaration  as  this  refpeding  the  cefTation  of 
the  Mofaical  law.  For  St.  Luke  informs  us,  that  the 
**■  law  and  the  prophets  were  until  John  ;"  that  is,  they 
were  to  continue  in  force  till  John  the  Baptift  had  (as  our 
Lord  exprefTes  it)  rejlored  all  things,  had  preached  thofe 
great  dodlrines  of  repentance  and  redemption  by  the  blood 
of  Chrift,  by  which  men  were  rejlored  to  a  right  ftate  of 
mind,  and  the  favour  of  God ;  till  he  had  thus  prepared 
the  way  for  the  Meffiah,  and  publicly  announced  the 
kingdom  of  God  ;  and  then  they  were  to  be  fuperfeded 
by  the  Chriftian  difpenfation.  Accordingly,  not  long  af- 
ter the  death  of  John,  the  fcene  of  the  transfiguration  took 
place  ;  and  this  great  revolution,  this  fubftitution  of  a  new 
lyftem  for  the  old  one,  was  made  known  in  that  remarka- 
ble manner  to  the  three  difciples.  This  fecondary  mean- 
ing here  aftigned  to  the  vifion  on  the  mount,  will  aftift  us 
in  explaining  an  injundion  of  our  Lord  to  his  difciples» 
for  which,  thougli  other  reafons  have  been  afSgned,  yet 
they  are  not,  I  think,  altogether  fatisfadory. 

In  the  9th  verfe  we  are  told,  that  as  they  came  down 
from  the  mount,  Jefus  charged  the  difciples,  faying, 
*'  Tell  the  vifion  to  no  man,  till  the  Son  of  man  be  rifea 
again  from  the  dead." 

If  the  only  intent  of  the  transfiguration  had  been  to  re- 
prefent,  by  an  expreffive  action,  our  Lord's  refurrerftion 
and  exaltation,  and  a  future  day  of  retribution,  it  is  not 
eafy  to  aflign  a  fufiicient  reafon  why  this  injundion  of  fe- 

S 


242  L  E  C  T  U  R  E     X\'. 

crecy,  till  after  his  refurredion,  fliould  have  been  given  •; 
becaufe  he  had  already  foretold  his  refurredtion  to  his  dif- 
ciples*,  and  he  alfo  apprized  them  before  his  death  of  his 
coming  in  glory  to  judge  the  ^vorldf.  It  does  not  there- 
fore appear,  hew  the  publication  of  the  vifion  on  the 
mount  could  have  been  attended  with  any  other  confe- 
quence,  than  •'  that  of  confirming  what  Jefas  had  already 
Hiade  knowuo 

But  if  we  fuppcfe  that  oti^  purpofe  of  the  transfigura- 
tion was  to  typify  the  abolition  of  the  ceremonial  law, 
and  the  ellablifhment  of  the  evangelical,  a  plain  "reafon 
prefents  itfelf  for  this  command  of  keeping  it  for  fome  time 
private  ;  for  it  was  one  of  thofe  truths  which  the  firft  con- 
verts were  not  able  to  bear.  Great  numbers  of  them, 
though  they  firmly  believed  in  Chritl,  yet  no  lefs  firmly 
belived  that  the  Moiliical  difpenfation  was  ftill  in  full  force. 
This  prejudice,  it  is  well  knov/n,  continued  feveral  years 
after  our  Lord^s  refiirre<5lion.  Mention  is  made  "  of  fev- 
'"  eral  thoufand  Jews  who  believed,  z.nd  yet  were  all  zeal- 
"  ous  of  the  law/'  i^.nd  it  was  the  fufpicirtn  that  St. 
Paul  had  forfaken,  snd  taught  others  to  forfake  Mofes, 
which,  brought  his  life  into  the  moft  imminent  danger, 
and  adually  occafioned  his  imprifonment.  No  wonder 
then  that  a  tranfadtion  which  w^as  defigned  to  prefigure 
this  very  doctrine  that  St.  Paul  was  charged  with,  and 
that  was  fo  offen five  to  the  Jewifh  converts  in  general, 
fnould  be  thought  unfit  by  our  Lord  to  be  publicly  divulg- 
ed till  fome  time,  perhaps  a  confiderable  time,  after  his 
refurredlion. 

From  the  whole,  then,  of  the  preceding  obfervations. 
It  appears,  that  the  transfiguration  of  Chrift  was  one  of 
thofe  emblematical  atflions,  or  figurative  reprefentatlons, 
of  w^hich  fo  many  inllances  have  been  pointed  out,  and  at 
the  fame  time  very  diftindly  explained,  and  elegantly  il- 
luflrated,  by  fome  of  our  bed  divines. 

Tlie  things  reprefented  by  this  fignificant  tranfadion 
xvere  : 

*  Chap.  xvi.  21.  f  Chap,  xxv. 


LECTURE     XV.  243 

Firft,  the  future  glory  of  Chrift,  a  general  refurrec- 
tion,  and  a  future  retribution. 

Secondly,  the  abrogation  of  the  Mofaical,  and  the  ef- 
tablifhment  of  the  evangelical  difpenfation. 

And  the  immediate  purpole  of  thefe  reprefentatlons  was, 
as  I  before  obferved,  to  corre<5l  two  inveterate  prejudices 
which  prevailed  among  the  difciples,  and  the  Jewilh  con- 
verts in  general. 

Of  thefe  one  was  the  extreme  offence  they  took  at  any 
mention  of  the  death  and  fufferings  of  Chrift,  which  they 
conceived  to  be  utterly  inconfiftent  with  his  dignity. 

The  other  was  their  perfuation  that  the  ceremonial  law 
was  not  done  away  by  the  Gofpel,  but  that  they  were  to 
exift  together  in  full  force,  and  to  have  an  equal  obedience 
paid  to  them  by  all  the  difciples  of  Chrift. 

But  though  the  removal  of  thefe  prejudices  was,  as  I 
conceive,  the  primary  and  immediate  defign  of  the  trans- 
figuration, yet  there  are  alfo  purpofes  of  great  utility  to 
all  Chriftians  in  general  in  every  age,  which  it  might  be, 
and  probably  was  intended  to  anfwer. 

In  the  firft  place  it  affords  one  more  additional  proof  of 
the  divine  mifiion  of  Chrift,  and  the  divine  authority  of 
his  religion. 

It  is  one  of  the  few  occafions  on  which  God  himfelf 
was  pleafed,  as  it  Vv^ere,  pcrJonaUy  to  interpofe,  and  to  make 
an  open  declaration  from  heaven  in  favour  of  his  Son.— 
"  This  is  my  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well  pleafed  : 
hear  ye  him.''  Tv/o  other  inftances  only  of  this  kind 
occur  in  the  Gofpels ;  one  at  our  Saviour's  baptifm,  the 
other  on  his  praying  to  his  Father  to  fave  him  from  the 
fufferings  that  awaited  him. 

Now  thefe  figns  from  heaven  may  be  confidered  as  a 
d'iftin^  /pedes  of  evidence,  different  both  from  miracles  and 
prophecies,  frequently  and  earneftly  wilhed  for  by  the 


■^'4.  LECTURE    XVo 

Jews,  but  not  granted  to  them,  nor  vouchfafed  to  any  one, 
but  very  fparingly,  and  on  great  and  folemn  occafions. 

But  befides  this  awful  teftimony  to  the  divine  origin  of 
cur  religion  in  general,  a  particular  atteftation  was  (as  we 
have  feen)  given  on  the  mount  to  two  of  its  principal  doc- 
trines, A  GENERAL  RESURRECTION,  and  A  DAY  OF  RET- 
RIBUTION. The  vifible  and  illuftrious  reprefentation  of 
thefe  in  the  glorified  appearance  of  Chrift,  and  Mofes  and 
Elias,  has  been  already  explained,  and  is  appealed  to  by 
St,  Peter,  who  faw  it,  as  one  convincing  proof,  among 
others,  that  "  he  had  not  followed  cunningly  devifed  fa- 
bles," when  he  made  known  "  the  power  and  coming  of 
our  Lord  Jefus  Chrift."  And,  indeed,  fmce  thefe  two 
dodrines,  c  resurrection,  and  a  day  of  judgment, 
are  two  of  the  moft  effential  and  fundamental  articles  of 
our  faith  ;  and  fmce  it  was  one  of  the  chief  purpofes  of 
the  Chriftian  revelation,  "  to  bring  life  and  imm,ortality  to 
light,"  r\o  wonder  that  God  fliould  gracioufly  condefcend 
to  confirm  thefe  great  truths  to  us  in  fo  m.any  various 
ways ;  by  words  and  by  adions,  by  prophecies,  by  mira- 
cles, and  by  celeflial  vifions= 


„<-<..<.,<„<..<„<,.<..<„<..<..<..<. .<..<..^..<..<..<..<-<..<..<>.>..>..>..>.>..>..>..>..>..>..>,..>.>.>..>.  >..>..>..>..>..>-. 


LECTURE     XVL 


MATTH.  xviii. 


HE  fubjed:  of  this  Lecture  is  a  part  of  the 
eighteenth  chapter  of  St.  Matthew.     It  is  evident  that 
the  difciples  of  our  Lord  were,  for  a  confiderable  time, 
pofFefled  with  the  imagination  which  prevailed  univerfally 
among  the  Jews  refpeding  their  Meffiiah,  that  their  Maf- 
ter's  kingdom  v^as  to  be  a  temporal  one  ;  that  he  was  at 
fome  time  or  otlier  to  become  a  prince  of  great  power  and 
fplendor,  and  that  they  of  courfe  fhould  enjoy  the  largeft 
fliare  of  his  favor,  and  be  placed  in   fituations  of  great 
diflindion  and  great  emolument.     And  this  delufion  had 
taken  fuch   ftrong  hold  upon  their  minds,  tliat  although 
our  Lord  took  frequent  opportunities  of  comb-iting  their 
error,  and  made  ufe  of  every  means  in  his  power  to  unde- 
ceive them,    yet  tliey  ftill  perfifted  in  maintaining  their 
favorite  opinion  ;  and  in  the  beginning  of  this  chapter  they 
came  to  Jefus,  faying,  who  is  the  greateft  in  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  ?  It  appears,  from  the  parallel  paiTage  in  St, 
Mark,  that  they  had  been  difputing  by  the  way  who  ihould 
be  the  greateft.     Our  Lord  knovving  this,  and  finding  that 
all  he  had  faid  on  this  fubjecl:  had  produced  no  effedt  upon 
them,  determined  to  try  whether  a  different  mode  of  con- 
veying his  fentiments  to  them  might  not  ftrike  their  minds 
more  forcibly.      He  therefore  had  recourfe  (as  in  the  cafe 
of  tlie  transfiguration)  to  what  may  be  called  a  vifiblekind 
of  language.      He  took  a  little  child,  and  placing  him  be- 
for^hem,  bid  them  contem.plate  the  innocence  and  fim- 
plicity,  the  meeknefs  and  humility  which  marked  its  coun- 
tenance ;  and  then  affured  them,  that  unlefs  they   v/ere 
converted,  and  became  as  little  children  ;  that  is,  unlefs  a 
total  change  took  place  in  the  temper  and  difpofition  of 
their  minds,  unlefs  they  became  as  unambitious  and  unaf- 
piring,  as  mxeek,  as  humble  and  contented,  as  little  con- 
cerned about  worldly  honors  and  dillindions,  as  the  child 


^S  t  E  C  T  U  R  E     XVr. 

before  them,  they  could  not  enter  into  the  kmgdom  of 
heaven  ;  they  could  never  be  confidered  as  true  objedts  of 
Chrift's  kingdom  here,  or  be  capable  of  inheriting  the  re- 
wards of  heaven  hereafter.  In  the  eye  of  God,  true  hu- 
mility is  a  moft  fublime  virtue  ;  and  whoever  fhall  hum- 
ble himfelf  as  this  little  child,  the  fame  is  greateft  in  the 
kingdom  of  heaven.  Our  Lord  then  goes  on  to  fay, 
'^*  V7hofoever  receiveth  one  fuch  little  child  in  my  name, 
receiveth  me."  That  is,  it  is  men  of  humble  minds  and 
meek  difpofitions,  whom  I  moft  highly  prize,  and  whom 
I  mofl  ftrongly  recom.m.end  to  the  notice,  the  kindnefs,  the 
prbte(51:ion  of  all  thofe  who  are  friends  to  me  and  my  reli- 
gion ;  and  fo  dear  are  men  of  this  defcription  to  m.e,  that 
I  make  their  interefts  my  own,  and  I  Ihall  confider  every 
man  who  receives,  and  affifts,  and  encourages  them  on 
my  account,  and  for  my  fake,  as  receiving  me.  But  if, 
inftead  of  receiving  and  prote6ling  thefe*my  humble  difci- 
ples,  any  one  Ihould  dare  to  injure  them,  he  muft  expeft 
the  fevereft  marks  of  my  difpleafure.  "  Whofo  fhall  of- 
fend one  of  thefe  little  ones  which  believe  in  me,  it  were 
better  for  him  that  a  mill-ftone  were  hanged  about  his  neck, 
and  that  he  were  drowned  in  the  depth  of  the  fea. '  Woe 
unto  the  world,  becaufe  of  offences  ;  for  it  mull  needs  be 
that  offences  come,  but  v/oe  to  that  man  by  whom  the  of- 
fence cometh." 

In  order  to  comprehend  the  full  meaning  of  this  denun- 
ciation, it  will  be  neceffary  to  explain  the  peculiar  mean- 
ing of  the  word  offend.  Now  this  expreffion  in  the  pre- 
fent  pafTage,  as  v/ell  as  in  many  other  parts  of  the  New 
Teftament,  fignifies  to  caufe  any  one  to  fall  from  his  faith ^ 
to  renounce  his  belief  in  Chrifl  by  any  means  whatever  ; 
and  againft  every  one  that  makes  ufe  either  of  violence  or 
artifice  to  terrify  or  feduce  the  fuicere  and  humble,  and 
xmfufpicious  believer  in  Chrifc  from  his  faith  and  obedience 
to  his  divine  Mailer,  the  fevered  woes,  and  the  heavieft 
punlihments  are  here  denounced. 

This  text  of  fcripture  therefore  I  v/ould  moll  eameftly 
recommend  to  the  ferious  confideration  of  thofe  who  either 
are  or  have  been  guilty  of  this  moil  dangerous  crime  ;  and 
1  would  alfo   no  lefs    earneilly  caution   ail  thofe   v/ho 


LECTURE    xvr.  2-ir 

&ave  not  yet  been  guilty  of  it,  to  avoid,  with  the  ut^ 
moft  care,  every  degree  of  it,  and  every  approach  to  it>- 
It  is  a  crime  often  touched  upon  in  holy  writ,  but  lefs  no- 
ticed, or  at  leaft  lefs  enlarged  upon  by  divines  and  moral- 
iiis  than  perhaps  any  other  fm  of  the  fame  magnitude. — 
For  this  reafon,  I  Ihall  enter  more  fully  into  the  confider- 
ation  of  it  than  has  hitherto,  I  believe,  been  ufually  done, 
and  fhall  advert  briefly  to  the  feveral  modes  of  makhig  our 
brother  to  ojend,  that  is,  to  renounce  his  faitli  in  Chriil:, 
which  are  moft  common  and  moft  fuccefsful ;  and  thefe 
are  perfecution,  fophiftry,  ridicule,  im.moral  examples, 
and  immoral,  publications. 

With  refpect  to  the  firft  of  thefe,  perfecution  ;  it  was, 
during  the  firft  ages  of  the  gofpel,  and  for  many  years 
after  the  reformation,  the  great  rock  of  ojftncc,  tlie  chief 
inftrument  made  ufe  of  (and  a  dreadful  one  it  was)  to  de- 
ter men  from  embracing  the  faith  of  Chrift,  or  to  compel 
them  ta  renounce  it.  But  iince  that  time  we  have  heard 
little  of  its  terrors,  till  they  were  fome  years  ago  revived, 
to  ■■  a  certain  degree,  in  a  neighboring  nation,  where  tiie. 
various  cruelties  infliifled  on  their  clergy  are  too  well 
known,  and  cannot  furely  be  afcribed  altogether  and  ex- 
clufively  to  political  caufes. . 

In  our  own  country,  it  muft  be  acknowledged,  we. 
cannot  juftly  be  charged  with  this  fpecies  of  guilt.  Intol- 
erance and  perfecution  are  certainly  not  in  the  number  of 
our  national  fins.  But  in  the  next  mode  of  making  our 
brother  to  oifend ;  that  is,  by  grave  argument  and  reafon, 
by  open  and  fyftematic  attacks  on  the  truth  and  divine  au» 
thority  of  the  Chriftian  revelation,  in  this  we  have,  I  fear, 
2L  large  load  of  refponfibility  upon  our  heads. 

It  has  even  been  affirmed  by  fome,  that  we  are  entitled 
to  the  deftin<5lion  of  having  led  the  way  to  this  kind  of  im- 
piety and  profanenefs.  We  have  this  honor  given  to  us 
(for  an  honor  they  efteemit)  by  foreign  wi^iters,  and  what 
is  worft  of  all,  we  are  applauded  for  it  by  fuch  men  as  B' 
Alembert  and  Voltaire. 

To  be  ftigmatized  with  their  praife,  and  for  fuch  a  rea"* 
fon,  is  a  difgrace  indeed  j  and  it  would  be  a  ftill  greater* 


24S  LECTURE     XVT. 

if  we  could  not  juftly  difclaim  and  throw  back  from  our* 
felves  the  humiiiating  and  ignominious  applaufe  which 
they  would  inflict  upon  us.  But  this  I  apprehend  we 
may  effectually  do.  There  appears  to  me  fufficient  ground 
for  afferting,  that  the  earlieit  -tftfidels  of  modern  times 
were  to  be  found,  not  in  this  ifland,  but  on  the  continent. 
If  we  may  credit  the  account  given  of  Peter  Aretin  (who 
lived  and  wrote  in  the  fourteenth  century)  by  Moreri,  and 
particularly  the  epitaph  upon  him,  which  he  recites,  there 
is  reafon  to  believe  that  he  was  an  infidel  of  the  word  fpe- 
cies  ;  and  Viret  a  divine  of  great  eminence  among  the  firft 
reformers,  who  wrote  about  the  year  1563,  fpeaks  of  a 
number  of  perfons,  both  in  France  and  Italy,  who  had 
afliimed  the  name  of  Deifts,  and  feem  to  have  formed 
themfelves  into  a  feci.  But  it  was  not  until  the  beginning 
of  the  following  century  that  any  men  of  that  defcription, 
or  any  publications  hoftile  to  revelation,  appeared  in  this 
kingdom.  From  tliat  time  indeed  down  to  the  prefent, 
there  has  been  a  regular  fucceffion  of  anti-chriftian  writers 
of  various  defcriptions  and  various  talents,  whofe  uniform 
objedt  has  been  to  fubvert  the  foundations  of  revealed  reli- 
gion, and  to  make  their  countrymen  offend,  and  renounce 
their  faith.  The  laft  of  thefe  v/as  a  man,  who,  from  the 
loweft  origin,  raifed  himfelf  to  fome  diftindtion  in  the 
political  and  literary  world,  by  his  bold  anxi  impious  libels 
againft  government,  againfl  religion,  and  the  holy  Scrip- 
tures themfelves.  In  thefe  writings  were  concentrated  all 
the  malignity,  all  the  Ihrewdnefs,  all  the  fophiftry  of  his 
numerous  predeceffors  ;  and  from  their  brevity,  their 
plainnefs,  their  familiarity,  their  vulgar  ribaldry,  their 
bold  aflertlons,  and  artful  mifreprefentations,  they  were 
better  calculated  to  impofe  on  the  ignorant  and  uninform- 
ed, and  more  dangerous  to  the  principles  of  the  great 
mafs  of  mankind,  than  any  publicartions  that  this  country 
ever  before  produced.  And  certain  it  is,  that  having  been 
diilribured  with  infinite  induitry  through  every  diHricH:  of 
the  kingdom,  they  did  for  a  time  diffufe  their  poifon  far 
and  wide,  and  m.ade  a  ftrong  and  fatal  impreilion  on  the 
multitude.  But,  thanks  be  to  God  !  they  at  length 
providentially  met  with  talents  infinitely  fuperior  to  thofe 
of  their  illiteraie  author,  which,  with  the  bleffing  of 
Hsaven  upon  theiu,,  gave  a  fudden  and  effe<5tual  check  to 


L  E  C  T  IT  R  E    XVL  249- 

the  progrefs  of  this  mifchief,  and  afForded  a  ftriking  proof 
©f  the  truth  of  that  prophecy  refpeding  the  ftability"-  of 
our  religion,  "  that  the  gates  of  hell  Ihall  never  prevail 
againfl  it»"  ^ 

The  next  great  engine  of  offence,  by  which  multitudes 
have  been  led  to  renounce  their  faith,  is  ridicule.  An  at- 
tempt was  made  early  in  the  laft  century  to  ere^l  this  into 
a  /£/?  of  truth,  and  it  has  accordingly  been  applied  by  many 
writers  fince  that  time  to  throw  difcredit  on  the  Chriftian 
revelation.  But  by  no  one  has  this  weapon  been  employ- 
ed with  m.ore  force  and  with  more  i^uccefs  tlian  by  the 
great  patriarch  of  infidelity,  Voltaire.  It  is  the  principal 
inftrument  he  makes  ufe  of  to  vilify  the  Gofpel ;  and 
among  the  inftru»51:ions  he  gives  to  his  coadjutors  and  fel- 
low-laborers in  this  righteous  work,  one  is,  to  load  the 
Chriftian  religion  and  the  author  of  it  with  never-ceafmg 
ridicule,  to  burlefque  it  in  every  way  that  imagination  can 
fuggeft,  and  to  deluge  the  world  with  an  infinity  of  little 
tradts,  placing  revelation  in  the  moft  ludicrous  point  of 
view,  and  rendering  it  an  object  of  mirth  and  of  contempt 
to  the  loweft  of  mankind.  This  method  he  ftridly  pur- 
fued  himfelf ;  to  this  he  bent  all  the  powers  of  his  mind, 
all  die  vivacity  of  his  wit,  all  the  fire  of  his  imagination ; 
and  whoever  examines  his  writings  againft  Chriftianity 
with  care,  will  find  that  much  the  largeft  part  of  them 
are  of  this  defcription.  And  in  this  he  Ihowed  a  thorough 
knowledge  of  the  world.  He  knew  that  mankind  in  gen- 
eral prefer  wit  to  logic^  and  love  to  be  entertained  rather 
than  convinced  ;  that  it  is  much  eaiier  to  point  an  epi- 
gram than  to  produce  an  argument  ;  that  few  can  reafon 
juftly,  but  that  all  the  world  can  be  made  to  laugh  ;  and 
that  whatever  can  be  rendered  an  object  of  derifion,  is 
almoft  fure  to  be  rejetfted  without  examination.  Of  all 
thefe  artifices  he  has  availed  himfelf  with  infinite  addrefs, 
and  we  know  alfo  with  fatal  fuccefs.  His  writings  have 
unqueftionably  produced  more  infidels  among  the  higher 
clafies,  and  fpread  more  general  corruption  over  the  world, 
than  ail  the  voluminous  produ(ftions  of  all  the  other  philo- 
fophifts  of  Europe  put  together. 

There  is  ftill  another  way  of  making  our  brother  to 
S  2 


250  LECTURE    XVI. 

ejfend,  or  In  other  words  of  fhaking  his  faith  in  the  Gofpefj, 
and  that  is  by  exhibiting  to  mankind  in  our  life  and  con- 
verfation  a  profligate  example. 

This  in  the  firft  place  gives  the  world  an  unfavorable 
idea  of  the  religion  we  profefs.  It  tempts  men  to  think 
either  that  we  ourfelves  do  not  believe  it,  or  that  we  fup- 
pofe  it  confiftent  with  the  vices  to  which  we  are  abandoned  ; 
and  either  of  thefe  fuppofitions  muft  confiderably  leffen 
their  eflimation  both  of  its  doftrines  and  its  precepts. 

In  the  next  place  a  wicked  example,  as  we  all  know, 
tends  to  corrupt  in  fome  degree  every  one  that  lives  with- 
in its  baneful  influence  ;  more  particularly  if  it  be  found 
in  men  of  high  rank,  great  wealth,  fplendid  talents,  pro- 
found erudition,  or  popular  charaders.  The  mifchief 
done  by  any  notorious  vices  in  men  of  this  defcription  is 
inconceivable.  It  fpreads  like  a  pefl:ilence,  and  deftroys 
thoufands  in  fecrecy  and  filence,  of  whom  the  oiFender 
himfelf  knows  nothing,  and  whom  probably  he  never 
meant  to  injure  ;  and  wherever  the  heart  is  corrupted,  the 
principle  of  faith  is  proportionably  weakened  ;  for  no 
man  that  gives  a  loofe  to  his  paflions  will  choofe  to  have 
fo  troublefome  a  monitor  near  him  as  the  Gofpel.  When 
he  has  learnt  to  difregard  the  moral  precepts  of  that  di- 
vine volume,  it  requires  but  a  very  flight  effort  to  rejedl 
its  doftrines,  and  then  to  difbelieve  the  truth  of  the  whole. 

A  diflblute  life  then,  efpecially  in  particular  clafles  of 
men,  is  one  certain  way  of  making  our  brother  to  offend, 
not  only  in  point  of  pradice  but  of  belief ;  and  there  is 
another  method  of  producing  the  fame  effefls,  nearly  alli- 
ed to  this,  and  that  is  immoral  publications. 

Thefe  have  the  fame  tendency  with  bad  examples,  both 
in  propagating  vice  and  promoting  infidelity  ;  but  they 
are  ftill  more  pernicious  ;  becaufe  the  fphere  of  their  in- 
fluence is  more  extenflve. 

A  bad  example,  though  it  operates  fatally,  operates 
comparatively  within  a  fmall  circumference.  It  extends 
only  to  tliofe  who  are  near  enough  to  obferve  it,  and  fall 


LECTURE     XVL  251 

witRin  the  reach  of  the  poifonous  infe(ftion  that  it  fpreads 
around  it ;  but  the  contagion  of  a  licentious  puWication^ 
efpecially  if  it  be  (as  it  too  frequently  is)  in  a  popular  and 
captivating  fhape,  knows  no  bounds  ;  it  flies  to  the  remot- 
eft  corners  of  the  earth  ;  it  penetrates  the  obfcure  and  re* 
tired  habitations  of  fimplicity  and  innocence ;  it  makes 
its  way  into  the  cottage  of  the  peafant,  into  the  hut  of 
the  ihepherd,  and  the  ihop  of  the  mechanic  ;  it  falls  into 
the  hands  of  all  ages,  ranks,  and  conditions  ;  but  it  is 
peculiarly  fatal  to  the  unfufpeding  and  unguarded  minds 
of  the  youth  of  both  fexes  ;  and  to  tliem  its  "  breatli  is 
poifon,  and  its  touch  is  death." 

•What  then  have  they  to  anfwer  for  who  are  every  day 
obtruding  thefe  publications  on  the  world,  in  a  thoufand 
different  fhapes  and  forms,  in  hiftory,  in  biography,  in 
poems,  in  novels,  in  dramatic  pieces  ?  in  all  which  the 
prevailing  feature  is  tiniverfal  ph'ilanthrophy  and  indifcnmi- 
nate  henevolence  ;  under  the  protedion  of  which  the  hero 
of  the  piece  has  the  privilege  of  committing  whatever  ir- 
regularities he  thinks  fit ;  and  while  he  is  violating  the 
moft  facred  obligations,  infmuating  the  moft  licentious 
fentiments,  and  ridiculing  every  thing  that  looks  like  reli- 
gion, he  is  neverthelefs  held  up  as  a  model  of  virtue  ;  and 
though  he  may  perhaps  be  charged  with  a  few  httle  veni- 
al foibles,  and  pardonable  infirmities,  (as  they  are  called) 
yet  we  are  afTared  that  he  has  notwithftanding  the  very  hefi 
heart  in  the  ivorld.  Thus  it  is  that  the  principles  of  our 
youth  are  infenfibly  and  almofl:  unavoidably  corrupted; 
and  inflead  of  being  infpired,  as  they  ought  to  be,  even 
upon  the  ftage,  with  a  juft  deteilation  of  vice,  they  are 
funiiihed  v/ith  apologies  for  it,  which  they  never  forget, 
and  are  even  taught  to  ccnfider  it  as  a  necelTary  part  of  an 
accomplifhed  charader. 

And  as  if  we  had  not  enough  of  this  difgufting  non- 
fenfe  and  abominable  profligacy  in  our  own  country,  and 
in  our  ovm  language,  we  are  every  day  importing  frefh 
famples  of  them  from  abroad,  are  ingrafting  foreign  im.- 
morality  on  our  ovv'n  native  flock,  and  introducing  char- 
a<5lers  on  the  ftage,  or  into  the  clofet,  which  are  calculated 
to  recommend  the  mofl  hcentious  principles,  and  favor  ir- 


252  LECTURE     XVL 

regularities  and  attachments  that  deferve  the  fevereft  re» 
prehenfion  and  puniftiment. 

Thefe  are  the  feveral  modes  in  which  we  may  weaken  or 
even  deftroy  the  moral  and  religious  principles  of  very  fin- 
cere  Chriftians,  or  in  the  words  of  Scripture,  may  make  our 
brother  to  oj'end.  And  whoever  is  guilty  of  giving  this  of- 
fence, ought  moft  ferioufly  to  confider  the  heavy  punifh- 
ment,  and  the  bitter  woe  which  our  Lord  here  denounces 
againft  it.  There  is  fcarce  any  one  fm  noticed  by  him, 
which  he  reprobates  in  fuch  ftrong  terms  as  this  :  "  Who 
fo  Ihall  ojfeniJ  one  of  thefe  little  ones  which  believe  in  me  -5 
it  were  better  for  him  that  a  mJll-ftone  were  hanged  about 
his  neck,  and  that  he  were  drowned  in  the  depth  of  the 
fea.  Woe  unto  the  world  becaufe  of  offences  ;  for  it 
muft  needs  be  that  offences  come ;  but  woe  to  that  man 
by  whom  the  offence  cometh."  Thefe  are  tremendous 
words  ;  but  we  cannot  wonder  that  our  Lord  fhould  ex- 
prefs  himfelf  thus  flrongly,  when  we  confider  the  dread- 
ful confequences  of  fpreading  infidelity  and  immorality 
among  our  fellow-creatures.  We  diftrefs  them  with  doubts 
and  fcruples  which  never  before  entered  into  their 
thoughts  ;  we  rob  them  of  the  mofl  invaluable  bleflings 
of  life,  of  that  heavenly  confolation  and  fupport  which  is 
derived  from  religious  fentiments  and  virtuous  habits  ;  of 
that  trull  and  confidence  in^  the  Supreme  Difpofer  of  all 
things,  which  gives  eafe  and  comfort  to  the  aflli(5led  foul ; 
of  that  unfpeakable  fatisfadion  which  refults  from  a  con- 
fcientious  difcharge  of  our  duty ;  and  of  that  peace  of 
God  which  pafTeth  all  underftanding.  But  what  is  ftill 
worfe,  we  not  only  deprive  them  of  the  trueft  comforts  of 
the  prefent  life,  but  we  cut  off  all  their  hopes  of  happi- 
nefs  in  the  next ;  we  take  from  them  the  only  fure  ground 
of  pardon  and  acceptance,  the  death  and  merits  of  a  cru- 
cified Redeemer :  we  bar  up  againff  them  the  gates  of 
heaven,  into  which  but  for  us  they  might  have  entered, 
and  perhaps  confign  them  over  to  everlafting  perdition. 
Is  not  this  beyond  comparifon,  the  greatelt  injury  that  one 
human  creature  can  inliift  upon  another  ?  And  does  it  not 
jullly  merit  that  fevere  fentence  which  our  Lord  has  pro- 
nounced againft  it  ?  Let  then  every  one  keep  at  the  utmoft 
diltance  from  this  moft  atrocious  crime.     Let  every  man 


LECTURE     XVI.  253 

who  commits  his  thoughts  to  the  public,  take  efpecial 
care  that  nothing  drop  even  Incidentally  from  his  pen  tliat 
can  ofFend  thofe  whom  our  Saviour  calls  little  children  that 
believe  in  him  ;  that  can  either  ftagger  their  faith  or  cor- 
rupt their  hearts.  Let  every  father  of  a  family  be  equal- 
ly careful  that  nothing  efcape  his  lips  in  the  unguarded 
hour  of  familiar  convei-fe,  that  can  be  dangerous  to  the 
religious  principles  of  his  children,  his  friends,  or  his  fer- 
vants  ;  nothing  that  tends  to  lelTen  their  reverence  for  the 
facred  writings,  their  refped  for  the  doctrines,  the  pre- 
cepts, or  the  facred  ordinances  of  religion,  or  raife  any 
doubts  or  fcruples  in  their  minds  refpe<5ting  the  truth  or 
divine  authority  of  the  Chriftian  revelation.  I  mention 
thefe  things,  becaufe  even  the  friends  of  religion  are  fome- 
tlmes  apt  through  mer^  Inadvertence  or  though tlelTnefs  to 
indulge  themfelves  In  pleafantries  even  upon  ferious  fub- 
jects,  which  though  meant  at  the  time  merely  to  entertain 
their  hearers,  or  to  dlfplay  their  wit,  yet  often  produce  a 
very  different  effe(5t,  and  fmk  much  deeper  into  the  minds 
of  thofe  that  are  prefent  (efpeclally  of  young  people)  than 
they  are  in  the  leaft  aware  of.  More  mifchief  may  fome- 
times  be  done  by  incidental  levities  of  this  kind,  than  by 
.grave  difcourfes  or  elaborate  writings  againfl  religion. 

I  have  dwelt  the  longer  on  this  interefting  topic,  be- 
caufe few  people  are  aware  of  the  enormity  of  the  fm  here 
reproved  by  our  Lord,  of  the  irreparable  Injury  it  m.ay  do 
to  others,  and  of  the  danger  to  which  it  expofes  themfelves. 
But  when  they  reflect,  that  by  the  commlffion  of  this  crime 
they  endanger  the  prefent  peace  and  the  future  falvation 
of  their  fellow-creatures,  and  expofe  themfelves  to  the 
woes  which  our  Lord  has  in  the  palTage  before  us  denounc- 
ed againll  thofe  from  whom  thefe  offences  come,  they  will 
probably  feel  It  their  duty  to  be  more  guarded  In  this  in- 
llance  than  men  generally  are  ;  and  will  take  heed  to  their 
ways  that  they  offend  not  either  with  their  pen  or  with  tlieir 
tongue. 

I  now  go  on  with  the  remaining  part  of  our  Lord's  ad- 
monition to  his  difciples. 

After  having  faid  In  the  7th  verfe,  "  Woe  unto  the 
world  becaufe  of   offences  j    for  it  muff  needs  be  that  of- 


254.  LECTURE     XVL 

fences  come,  but  woe  to  that  man  by  whom  the  offence 
cometh  ;"  he  then  adds,  wherefore  if  thy  hand  or  thy  foot 
offend  thee,  cut  them  off  and  caft  them  from  thee  ;  it  1s 
better  for  thee  to  enter  into  hfe  halt  or  maimed,  rather 
than  having  two  hands  or  two  feet  to  be  caft  into  everlaft- 
ing  fire  ;  and  if  thine  eye  offend  thee,  pluck  it  out  and 
caft  it  from  thee  ;  it  is  better  for  thee  to  enter  into  life 
with  one  eye,  rather  than  having  two  eyes  to  be  caft  into 
hell  fire." 

Our  Saviour  here  applies  to  the  particular  fm  which  he 
was  then  condemning,  the  very  fame  words  which  he  had 
ufed  before  in  his  fermon  on  the  Mount  with  reference  to 
tlie  crime  of  adultery  ;  and  the  meaning  is  this  : 

The  henious  fm,  againft  which  I  have  been  here  cau- 
tioning you,  that  of  offending  your  Chriftian  brethren, 
of  caufmg  them  by  your  mifconducl  to  renounce  their 
faith  in  me  or  to  defert  the  paths  of  virtue,  has  its  origin 
in'  your  depraved  appetites  and  palTions ;  as  in  the  prefent 
inftance  it  is  your  ambition,  your  eagernefs  after  worldly 
honors  and  diftin6lions,  which  il  is  to  be  feared  will  give 
offence  and  fcandal  to  thofe  that  obferve  it,  and  may  im^ 
prefs  them  with  an  unfavorable  idea  of  that  religion  which 
feems  to  infpire  fuch  fentiments.  You  muft  therefore  go 
at  once  to  the  root  of  the  evil,  you  muft  extirpate  thofe 
corrupt  paffions  and  propenfities  that  have  taken  poffeffion 
of  your  hearts,  tiiough  it  may  be  as  difficult  for  you  to 
part  with  them  as  it  would  be  to  pluck  out  an  eye,  or  tear 
off  a  limb  from  the  body.  For  it  is  better  that  you 
{hould  renounce  what  is  moft  dear  to  you  in  this  life,  than 
that  you  fhould  fuffer  thofe  dreadfal  punifliments  in  the 
next,  which  I  have  told  you  will  affuredly  be  inflicted  on  all 
imnenitent  offenders,  and  more  particularly  on  thofe  who 
offend  in  the  way  here  fpeciiied. 

He  then  returns  to  the  main  fubje<5lof  hh  exhortation: 
"  -take  heed  that  ye  defpife  not  one  of  thefe  little  ones ;  for 
I  fay  unto  you,  that  in  heaven  their  angels  do  always  be- 
hold the  flice  of  my  Father  which  is  in  heaven."  That  is» 
I  again  repeat  to  you,  take  heed  that  ye  treat  not  with 
fcorn  and  contempt  fuch  little  children  as  you  now  fee 


LECTURE.     XVI.  255 

"before  you,  or  thofe  believers  In  me  who  refemble  thefe 
children  in  docility,  meeknefs,  humility,  and  indifference 
to  all  that  the  world  calls  great  and  honourable.  Take 
care  that  you  do  not  confider  their  welfare,  their  falvation, 
as  below  your  notice  and  regard,  and  wantonly  endanger 
both  by  giving  way  to  your  own  irregular  defires ;  for  I  fay 
unto  you,  that  however  contemptibly  you  may  think  of 
them,  your  heavenly  Father  regards  them  with  a  more 
favorable  eye.  He  even  condefcends  to  take  them  under 
his  protection,  he  fends  his  moft  favored  angels,  thofe 
minillers  of  his  that  do  his  pleafure,  and  (land  always  in 
his  prefence  ready  to  execute  his  commands,  even  thefe  he 
deputes  to  guard  and  watch  over  thefe  little  children  and 
thofe  humble  Chriftians,  vv-ho  are  like  them  in  purity  and 
innocence  of  mind. 

From  this  pafTage  fome  have  Inferred,  tliat  every  child, 
and  every  faithful  fervant  of  Chrift,  has  an  angel  conftantly 
attached  to  his  perfon,  to  fuperintend,  direcl:,  and  protedfc 
him  ;  and  this  is  the  opinion  of  the  learned  Grotius  hlm- 
felf ;  whilft  others  only  fuppofe  that  thofe  celeftial  fpirits, 
who  (as  we  are  told  of  Gabriel)  Jiand  before  God,  are 
occafionally  fent  to  affiH  the  pious  Chriftian  in  imminent 
danger,  in  fevere  trials,  or  great  emergencies.  And  hence 
perhaps  the  favorite  and  popular  do<5lrine  of  guardian 
angels  ;  a  dcdrine  which  has  prevailed  more  or  lefs  in  every 
age  of  the  church,  which  Is  without  quellion  moft  footli- 
ing  and  confolatory  to  human  nature,  and  is  certainly  coun- 
tenanced by  this  and  feveral  other  paifages  of  holy  v^Tit, 
as  well  as  by  the  authority  of  Origen,  Tertullian,  and 
other  ancient  fathers  and  com^mentators.  In  the  Pfalms  it 
is  faid,  «  The  angel  of  the  Lord  tarrleth  round  about  them 
tliat  fear  him,  and  dellvereth  them*.''  And  in  the  Epiftle 
to  the  Hebrewsf  v/e  are  told,  that  the  angels  are  all 
miniftering  fpirits,  fent  forth  to  minifter  for  them  who 
fhall  be  heirs  of  falvation."  No  one  therefore  that  cher- 
ifhes  this  notion  can  be  charged  with  v/eaknefs  or  faper- 
ftitlon ;  and  If  It  fhould  be  at  laft  an  error.  It  Is  as  Cicero  fays 
of  the  immortality  of  the  foul?  fo  delightful  an  error,  that  we 

*  Psal  rxxiV,  7.  f  Chap,  l  14- 


256  LECTURE     XVI. 

'  cannot  eafily  fuffer  it  to  be  wreRed  from  us.*  But  whatever 
may  be  the  decifion  of  ieanied  men  on  this  point,  there  is  one 
thing  moft  clearly  proved  by  the  text  now  before  us,  and 
confirmed  by  a  multitude  of  others,  and  tliat  is,  the  doc- 
trine not  only  of  a  general  but  of  a  particular  providence, 
which  in  one  way  or  other,  whether  by  minifteiing  angels, 
or  by  the  all-comprehending  and  omniprefent  eye  of  God 
himfelf,  watches  over  thofe  true  difciples  of  Chrift,  who, 
in  their  tempers,  difpofitions,  and  manners,  approach 
neareft  to  the  humility,  the  meeknefs,  the  innocence,  and 
the  fimplicity  of  a  child. 

This  doctrine  is  indeed  fo  diftinftly  and  explicitly  aflert- 
ed  in  various  parts  of  fcripture,  that  it  ftands  in  no  need 
of  any  confirmation  from  this  particular  pafiage ;  but 
every  additional  proof  of  fo  material  a  fupport  under  the 
affli<aions  and  calamities  of  life,  muft  be  grateful  to  every 
heart  that  has  known  what  affliction  is. 

The  verfe  that  comes  next  in  order  is  this  :  *•  For  the  Son 
of  man  is  come  to  fave  that  which  is  loft."  The  connex- 
ion of  this  verfe  with  the  preceding  one  is  fomewhat 
obfcure,  but  feems  to  be  as  follows  :  You  may  think, 
perhaps  that  man  is  too  mean,  too  infignificant  a  being,  to 
be  worthy  of  tlie  miniftration  and  guardianfhip  of  celeftial 
fpirits.  But  how  can  you  entertain  this  imagination, 
when  you  know  that  for  this  creature  man,  for  fallen  and 
fmful  man,  did  the  Son  cf  God  condefcend  to  offer  him- 
felf up  a  facrifice  on  the  crofs,  and  came  to  fave  that 
which  was  loft  ?  Well  then  may  the  angels  of  heaven  be 
proud  to  guard  what  their  Lord  and  JSIafter  came  to  fave* 
Jefus  then  goes  on  to  exemplify,  by  a  famiUar  fimilitude, 
his  paternal  tendernefs  to  the  fons  of  men.  "  Kow  tliink 
ye,  if  a  man  have  an  hundred  fheep,  and  one  of  them  be 
gone  aftray,  doth  he  not  leave  the  ninety  and  nine,  and 
go  into  the  mountains,  and  feeketh  that  whicli  is  gone 
aftray  ?    And  if   fo  be  that  he  find  it,    verily  I  fay  unto 

*  The  excellent  Bi{hop  Andrews  has,  In  one  of  his  animated  pray- 
ers, a  paflage  which  plainly  fliews  that  he  believed  this  dovStrine  It 
is  as  follows ;  "  That  the  angel  of  peace,  the  holy  guide  of  thy  chil- 
dren, the  faithful  guard  fet  by  thee  ovjt  their  fouls  and  bodii^s,  may 
encamp  round  about  me,  and  continually  fugged  to  my  mind  fuch 
things  as  conduce  to  thy  glory,  grant  O  good  J-ord  ?" 


r  LECTURE    XVI.  257 

you,  he  rejoiceth  more  of  that  fheep  than  of  the  ninety 
and  nine  that  went  not  aftray.  Even  fo  it  is  not  the  will 
of  your  Father  that  one  of  thefe  little  ones  fhould  perifh." 
We  are  not  to  infer  from  this  fimilitude,  that  God  fets 
more  value,  and  looks  with  more  complacency  and  appro- 
bation on  one  repenting  fmner,  th-an  on  ninety  and  nine 
righteous  perfons  who  have  uniformly  and  devoutly  ferved 
him.  This  can  never  be  imagined  ;  nor  would  it  corref- 
pond  with  the  illuftration.  The  Ihepherd  himfelf  does 
not  fet  a  greater  value  upon  the  Loft  Iheep  than  he  does 
upon  thofe  that  are  fafe  ;  nor  would  he  give  up  them  to 
recover  that  which  has  ftrayed.  But  his  joy  for  the  mo- 
merit,  at  the  recovery  of  the  loft  flieep,  is  greater  than  he 
receives  from  all  the  reft,  becaufe  he  has  regained  that, 
and  is  fure  of  all  the  others.  The  whole,  therefore,  that 
was  meant  to  be  inculcated  by  tliis  parable  is,  that  God's 
parental  tendemefs  extends  to  all,  even  to  the  fmner  that 
goes  aftray,  and  t].iat  he  rejoices  at  the  converfion  and 
recovery  of  the  meaneft  individual,  and  of  the  moft  griev- 
ous offender.  This  is  the  very  conclufion,  and  the  only 
one  which  our  Lord  himfelf  draws  from  the  parable. 
**  Even  fo  it  is  not  the  will  of  your  Father  which  is  in 
heaven,  that  one  of  thefe  little  ones  fhould  perifli.'* 

Such  then  being  the  mercy  of  the  Almighty  even  to  his 
fmful  creatures,  our  Lord  goes  on  to  intimate  to  his  cifci- 
ples,  that  they  ought  alfo  to  exercife  a  fimilar  lenity  and 
forbearance  towards  their  oiFending  brethren.  "  If  thy 
brother  ftiall  trefpafs  againft  thee,  go  and  tell  him  his  fault 
between  thee  and  him  alone.  If  he  fhall  hear  thee,  thou 
haft  gained  thy  brother.  But  if  he  will  not  hear  thee, 
then  take  with  thee  one  or  tv/o  more,  that  in  the  mouth 
of  two  or  three  witnelfes  every  v/ord  may  be  eftablifned ; 
and  if  he  fliall  negled:  to  hear  them,  tell  it  unto  the 
church  ;  but  if  he  negledt  to  hear  the  church,  let  him  be 
unto  thee  as  a  heathen  man  and  a  publican.''  In  this  paf- 
ii.^^  there  are  evident  allufions  to  the  laws  and  cuftoms  of 
the  Jews,  who,  for  the  convidion  of  any  offender,  re- 
quired the  teftimony  of  at  leaft  two  witnefTes* ;  and  in 
the  cafe  of   notorious  and  obftinate   offenders,  reproved 

*  Deut.  xix.  ij, 
T 


1258  J^  E  C  T  U  R  E     XVL 

them  publicly  in  their  fynagogues.  But  the  obvious 
meaning  in  regard  to  ourfelves  is,  that  even  againft  thofe 
who  have  ill-treated  and  injured  us,  we  fhould  not  imme- 
diately proceed  to  extreme  feverity  and  rigour  ;  but  firft 
try  the  efFe6ls  of  private,  and  gentle,  and  friendly  admo- 
nition ;  if  that  fail,  then  call  in  two  or  three  perfons  of 
character  and  reputation  to  add  weight  and  authority  to 
our  remonftrances  ;  and  if  that  has  no  efFedl,  we  are  then 
juftified  in  bringing  the  offender  before  the  proper  tribu- 
nal, to  be  cenfured  or  puniilied  as  he  deferves,  avoiding 
all  communication  with  him  in  future,  except  what  com- 
mon humanity  may  require  even  towards  an  enemy.— 
Thefe  diredlions  are  evidently  the  dictates  of  that  modera- 
tion, mildnefs,  and  benevolence,  which  characterize  all 
our  Saviour's  precepts,  and  more  particularly  diftinguilh 
this  chapter. 

*'  Verily  I  fay  unto  you,"  continues  our  Saviour, 
**  whatfoever  ye  fhall  bind  on  earth  fhall  be  bound  in 
heaven,  and  whatfoever  ye  fhall  loofe  on  earth  fhall  be 
loofed  in  heaven.  Again  I  fay  unto  you,  that  if  two  of 
you  fiiall  agree  on  earth  as  touching  any  thing  that  they 
fhall  afk,  it  fhall  be  done  for  them  of  my  Father  which 
is  in  heaven  ;  for  where  two  or  three  are  gathered  together 
in  my  name,  there  am  I  in  the  midft  of  them." 

There  is  fome  difficulty  ztA  fome  dilFerence  of  opinion 
with  refpeft  to  the  precife  meaning  of  thefe  verfes ;  but 
they  evidently  have  a  reference  to  the  cafe  of  the  offender 
dated  in  the  preceding  verfes  ;  they  are  addrefTed  exclu- 
fively  to  the  apoftles  ;  and  the  moft  natural  interpretation 
of  them  feems  to  be  as  follows :  Whatever  fentence  of 
abfolution  or  condemnation  you  fhall  in  your  appoilolical 
capacity  pronounce  on  any  offender,  that  fentence  fhall 
be  confirmed  in  heaven  :  and  whatever  even  two  of  you 
fliall  afk  in  prayer  for  dire6tion  and  affiftance  from  above, 
in  forming  your  judicial  determinations,  it  fliall  be  granted 
you  ;  for  where  only  tv/o  or  three  of  you  are  gathered 
together  in  my  name,  and  are  afting  under  my  authority 
and  for  my  glory  in  any  cafe  of  great  importance,  there 
am  I  in  the  midft  of  you  by  my  holy  fpirit,  to  guide, 
dire6lj  and  fmciion  your  proceedings. 


LECTURE     XVL  £59 

^Ve  now  come  to  one  of  the  moft  Interefting  and  mcft 
•affecting  parables  that  is  to  be  found  either  in  fcripture, 
or  in  any  of  the  moft  admired  v/ritings  of  antiquity.  In 
confequence  of  what  our  Lord  had  faid  in  the  courfe  of 
his  inftru6lions  on  the  fubje6l  of  injuries,  Peter  came  to 
him,  and  faid,  "  Lord,  hov/  oft  fhall  my  brother  fm 
againft  me  and  I  forgive  him,  till  feven  times  ?'*  an 
allowance  which  he  probably  thought  abundantly  liberal. 
Jefus  faith  unto  him,  "  I  fay  not  unto  thee  until  feven  times, 
but  until  feventy  times  feven  ;"  that  is,  this  duty  of  for- 
giving injuries  has  no  limits.  However  frequently  you 
are  injured,  if  real  penitence  and  contrition  follow  the 
offence,  a  Chriftian  is  always  bound  to  forgive.  To  illuf- 
trate  and  confirm  this  important  duty,  our  Lord  fubjoins 
the  following  parable.  *'  Therefore  is  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  likened  unto  a  king,  which  would  take  account  of 
his  fervants  ;  and  when  he  had  began  to  reckon,  one  was 
brought  to  him  which  owed  him  ten  thoufand  talents, 
(that  is  nearly  two  millions,  fome  think  more  than  two 
millions  of  our  money. )  But  for  as  much  as  he  had  not 
to  pay,  his  Lord  commanded  him  to  be  fold,  and  his 
v/ife  and  children,  and  all  that  he  had,  and  payment  to 
be  made."  This  leems  a  moft  fevere  penalty  for  infol- 
vency  ;  and  yet  it  was  a  frequent  pra«ftice  among  the 
Jews*,  as  we  learn  both  from  various  palTages  of  the  Old 
Teftament  and  from  Jofephus ;  and  we  are  told  by  feveral 
intelligent  travellers,  that  infolvency  is  one  of  the  caufes 
of  flavery  in  Africa  at  this  very  hour.  So  perfe(5tly 
conformable  to  fadt  and  to  the  truth  of  hiftory  is  every 
circumftance  that  occurs  in  the  facred  writings.  "  The  fer~ 
vant  therefore  fell  down  and  worfliipped  him,"  proftrated 
himfelf  at  his  mafter's  feet,  and  in  the  moil  moving  terms 
befought  him  faying,  "  Have  patience  witli  m.e,  and  I  will 
pay  thee  all."  Then  the  Lord  of  that  fervant  was  moved 
with  companion,  and  loofed  him,  and  forgave  him  the 
debt.  But  the  fam.e  fervant  went  out,  and  found  one  of 
hisfellov/  fervants  which  owed  him  an  hundred  pence,  (a 
very  trifling  fum)  ;  and  he  laid  hands  on  him,  and  took 
him  by  the  throat,  faying,  "  Pay  me  what  tliou  oweft." 
He  aiTaiied  him  with  far  greatei  violence  and  brutality 

*  Exod.  xxij.  3.     Lev,  xxv,  47, 


260  LECTURE     XVI. 

than  his  lord  had  ufed  towards  himfelf  for  a  debt  of  ten 
-  thoufand  talents.  "  And  his  fellow  fervant  fell  down  at 
his  feet,  and  befought  him,  faying,  "  Have  patience  with 
me,  and  I  will  pay  thee  all  j"  the  very  fame  fupplicating 
attitude,  the  very  fame  affecting  words  that  he  had  himfelf 
made  ufe  of  towards  his  lord  ;  "  and  he  would  not  but 
went  and  caft  him  into  prifon  till  he  fhould  pay  the  debt. 
So  when  his  fellow  fervants  faw  what  v/as  done,  they  were 
very  forry  ;"  forry  for  the  Hifferings  of  the  unhappy  debt- 
or ;  forry  for  the  difgrace  brought  on  human  nature  by  the 
unfeeling  creditor  ;  "  and  they  came  and  told  unto  their 
lord  all  that  was  done.  Then  his  lord,  after  that  he  had 
called  him,  faid  unto  him,  O  thou  wicked  fervant,  I  for- 
gave thee  all  that  debt  becaufe  thou  defiredft  me  ;  fhouideft 
not  thou  alfo  have  had  compaffion  on  thy  fellow  fervant, 
even  as  I  had  pity  on  thee  ?  And  his  lord  was  wroth,  and 
delivered  him  to  the  tormentors  till  he  fhould  pay  all  that 
was  due  to  him.  So  likewife  fhall  my  heavenly  Father  do 
alfo  unto  you,  if  ye  from  your  hearts  forgive  not  every 
one  his  brother  their  trefpaffes." 

Such  is  the  parable  of  the  unforgiving  fervant,  which 
I  am  fure  has  not  only  been  heard  but  felt  by  every  one 
here  prefent.  It  requires  no  comment  or  explanation ; 
the  bare  repetition  of  it  is  fufficient :  indeed  it  cannot  be 
expreiTed  in  any  other  words  than  its  ovm,  without  impair- 
ing its  beauty  and  its  ftrength.  Notwithftanding  tlie  fre- 
quency of  its  recurrence  in  the  courfe  of  our  church  fer- 
vice,  there  is  no  one,  I  believe,  that  ever  hears  it  without 
emotion  and  delight.  Amidft  fo  much  excellence  as  we 
meet  with  in  the  Gofpel,  it  is  not  eafy  to  fay  what  is  moft 
excellent ;  but  if  I  was  to  feledt  any  one  parable  of  our 
Lord's  as  more  interefting,  more  affecting,  coming  more 
home  to  the  feelings,  and  preffing  clofer  on  the  hearts  of 
men  than  any  other  of  the  reft,  I  think  it  would  be  this. 
Certain  it  is,  that  in  all  the  characters  of  excellence,  in 
perfpicuity,  in  brevity,  in  fimplicity,  in  pathos,  in  force, 
it  has  no  equal  in  any  human  compofition  whatever.  On 
its  beauties  therefore,  I  fhall  not  enlarge,  but  on  its  ufes 
and  its  application  to  ourfelves,  I  muft  fay  a  few  words. 

And  in  the  firft  place  I  would  obferve,  that  the  objed  of 
this  parable  is  not  only  to  enforce  the  duty  of  cultivating  a 


LECTURE     XIV.  261 

placable  difpofition,  but  a  dlfpofitlon  conjiantly  placable, 
always  ready  to  forgive  the  offences  of  our  brother,  how- 
ever frequently  he  may  repeat  thofe  offences.  For  it  was 
immediately  after  our  Lord  had  told  Peter  that  he  was  to 
forgive  his  brother  not  merely  feven  times,  but  feventy 
times  feven,  that  he  added  this  parable  to  confirm  that 
very  dodlrine  ;  therefore,  fays  he,  is  the  kingdom  of  heav- 
en like  unto  a  certain  king,  &c.  But  then  it  is  only  upon 
this  condition,  that  the  offender  is  fmcerely  penitent,  and 
entreats  forgivenefs.  This  is  evident  from  the  parallel 
paffage  in  St.  Luke,  which  expreffes  this  condition  :  "  If 
thy  brother  trefpafs  againft  thee  feven  times  in  a  day,  and 
feven  times  in  a  day  turn  again  to  thee,  faying,  I  repent ; 
thou  fhalt  forgive  him*."  Yet  even  this  will  to  many 
people  appear  a  hard  faying,  and  will  not  very  well  agree 
with  thofe  high  fpirited  paffions,  and  that  keen  fenfe  of 
injuries,  which  too  generally  prevail,  and  which  inftead 
of  forgiving  repeated  offences,  will  liflen  to  no  entreaties, 
no  exprellions  of  contrition,  even  for  a  fingle  one.  But 
are  you  then  content  that  your  heavenly  Father  fhould 
deal  out  the  fame  meafure  to  you  that  you  mete  to  your 
brother?  Are  you  content  that  one  fmgle  offence  fhould 
exclude  you  for  ever  from  the  arms  of  his  mercy  ?  Are 
you  not  every  day  heaping  up  fm  upon  fm  ;  do  not  you 
ftand  as  much  in  need  of  daily  forgivenefs  as  you  do  of 
your  daily  bread  ;  and  do  you  think  it  an  excefs  of  indul- 
gence, an  overftrained  degree  of  tendernefs  and  compaf. 
iion,  that  your  Maker  fliould  pardon  you  feven  times  a 
day,  or  even  feventy  times  feven  ? 

2.  In  the  next  place  I  would  remark,  that  this  parable 
is  a  pradlical  comment  on  that  petition  in  the  Lord's  Pray- 
er, "  forgive  us  our  trefpaffes  as  we  forgive  them  that 
trefpafs  againft  us  ;"  and  it'fhews  what  infinite  ftrefs  our 
divine  Mafter  lays  on  this  duty  of  forgivenefs,  by  the  care 
he  takes  to  enforce  it  in  fo  many  different  ways,  by  this 
parable,  by  making  it  a  part  of  our  daily  prayers,  and 
by  his  repeated  declarations  that  we  muff  expect  no  m.ercy 
from  our  Maker  "  unlefs  we  from  our  hearts  forgive  every 
one  his  brother  their  trefpaffesf ."  To  the  fame  purpofe 
are  thofe  irrefiftible  words  of  St.  Paul :  "  Be  ye  therefore 

*  Luke.  xvii.  4.  f  Matth.  xvlii,  35- 


26^  LECTURE     XVT. 

kind  one  to  another,  tender-hearted,  forgivuig  one  anoth- 
er, even  as  God  for  Chrlft's  fake  hath  forgiven  you*.'* 
Let  the  hard-hearted  unrelenting  man  of  the  world,  or 
the  obdurate  unforgiving  parent,  advert  to  thefe  repeated 
ad^lonitions,  and  then  let  him,  if  he  can,  indignantly 
fpurn  from  him  the  repenting  oiFender  entreating  pardon 
at  his  feet  in  thofe  heart-piercing  words,  "  Have  patience 
v^^ith  me,  and  I  vi^ll  pay  thee  all." 

And  yet  it  is  dreadful  to  ftate,  as  I  muft  do  in  the  laft 
place,  what  very  little  regard  is  paid  to  this  precept  by  a 
large  part  of  mankind. 

No  man,  I  believe,  ever  heard  or  read  the  parable  be- 
fore us  without  feeling  his  indignation  rife  againft  the  un- 
grateful and  unfeeling  fervant,  who,  after  having  a  debt 
of  ten  thoufand  talents  remitted  to  him  by  his  indulgent 
Lord,  threv/  his  fellow  fervant  into  prifon  for  a  debt  of  an 
hundred  pence.  And  yet  how  frequently  are  we  ourfelves- 
guilty  of  the  very  fame  offence  ? 

Who  is  there  among  us  that  has  not  had  ten  thoufand 
talents  forgiven  him  by  his  heavenly  Father  ?  Take  to- 
gether all  the  offences  of  his  life,  all  his  fms  and  follies 
from  the  lirft  hour  of  his  maturity  to  the  prefent  time,, 
and  they  may  well  be  compared  to  this  immenfe  fum  ; 
which  immenfe  fum,  if  he  has  been  a  fmcere  penitent,  has 
been  all  forgiven  through  the  merits  of  his  Redeemer. 
Yet  when  his  fellow-chriftian  owes  him  an  hundred  pence,. 
when  he  commits  the  flighted  offence  againft  him,  he  too 
often  refufes  him  forgivenefs,  though  he  fall  at  his  feet  to 
implore  it.  . 

In  fa(5l  do  we  not  every  day  fee  men  refenting  not  only 
real  injuries,  but  flight  and  even  imaginary  offences,  with 
extreme  vehemence  and  paffion,  and  fometimes  punifliing 
the  offender  with  nothing  lefs  than  death  ?  Do  we  not  even 
fee  families  rent  afunder,  and  all  domeftic  tranquility  and 
comfort  deflroyed  frequently  by  the  moft  trivial  caufes, 
fometimes  on  one  fide,  and  fometimes  on  both,  refuflng  to^ 
liften  to  any  reafonable  overtures  of  peace,  haughtily  re- 

*  Eph.  jv,  3Z. 


LECTURE     XVI.  263" 

je(rtmg  all  ofFers  of  reconciliation,  infilling  on  the  higheft 
poffible  fatisfaclion  and  fubmiflion,  and  carrying  thefe  fen- 
timents  of  implacable  rancour  with  them  to  the  grave  ? 
And  yet  thefe  people  call  themfelves  Chriftians,  and  ex- 
peft  to  be  themfelves  forgiven  at  the  throne  of  mercy  ! 

Let  then  every  man  of  this  defcription  remember  and 
moft  ferioufly  refleft  on  this  parable  ;  let  him  remember 
that  the  unforgiving  fervant  was  delivered  over  to  the  tor- 
mentors till  he  fliould  pay  tlie  uttermoft  farthing.  Let 
him  recolleft  that  all  the  world  approves  this  fentence  ,• 
that  he  himfelf  cannot  but  approve  it ;  that  he  cannot 
but  feel  himfelf  to  be  preclfely  in  the  fituation  of  that  ve- 
ry fervant,  and  that  of  courfe  he  muft  at  the  laft  tremend- 
ous day  expeft  that  bitter  and  unanfwerable  reproach 
from  his  oflPended  Judge :  "  O  thou  wicked  fervant !  I 
forgave  thee  all  that  debt  becaufe  thou  defiredft  me  ; 
fhouldeft  not  thou  alfo  have  had  compaflion  on  thy  fellow, 
fervant  even  as  I  had  pity  on  thee  ?" 


» 


„^..^..^.<..<..<.<..<-.<-<-<-<-<'<-'<"<"<^^^^^^^ 


LECTURE    XVIL 


MATTHEW  xix. 
r  j  'i 

X  HE  paflage  of  Scripture  which  I  propofe  to 
explain  in  the  prefent  Lefture,  is  a  part  of  the  19th  chap- 
ter of  St.  Matthew,  beginning  at  the  16thverfe. 

«  Behold,"  fays  the  evangelift,  «  one  came  and  faid 
unto  him  (meaning  Jefus)  Good  Mafter,  what  good 
thing  fhall  I  do  that  I  may  have  eternal  life  ?  And  he  faid 
unto  him,  Why  calleft  thou  me  good  ?  there  is  none  good 
but  one,  that  is  God  ;  but  if  thou  wilt  enter  into  life, 
keep  the  commandments.  He  faith  unto  him,  Which  ? 
Jefus  faid,  Thou  fhalt  do  no  murder,  thou  flialt  not  com- 
mit  adultery,  thou  Hialt  not  fteal,  thou  fhalt  not  bear  falfe 
witnefs.  Honour  thy  father  and  thy  mother :  and,  thou 
ftialt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyfelf.  The  young  man  faith 
unto  him.  All  thefe  things  Imve  I  kept  from  my  youth 
up,  what  lack  I  yet  ?  Jefus  faid  unto  him,  If  thou  wilt 
be  perfefl,  go  and  fell  that  thou  haft,  and  give  to  the  poor, 
and  thou  fhalt  have  treafure  in  heaven  :  and  come  and 
follow  me.  But  when  the  young  man  l^ard  that  faying, 
he  went  away  forrowful  i  for  he  had  great  pofieffions.'' 

The  converfatlon  here  related  between  the  young  ruler 
(for  fo  he  is  called  by  St.  Luke)  and  our  bleffed  Lord, 
cannot  but  be  extremely  interefting  to  every  fmcere  Chrif- 
tain,  who  is  anxious  about  his  own  falvation.  A  young 
man  of  high  rank,  and  of  large  pofTeffions,  came  with 
great  hafte  and  eagernefs  ;  came  running,  as  St.  Mark 
expreffes  it,  to  Jefus ;  and  throwing  himfelf  at  his  feet, 
propofed  to  him  this  moft  important  queftion  :  "  Good 
Mafter,  what  good  thing  flmll  I  do,  that  I  may  have 
eternal  hfe  ?"  This  vvas  not  a  queftion  of  mere  curiofity, 
©r  an  infidious  one^  as  the  queftions  put  to  our  Lord  (ef- 
T  2 


26<5  LECTURE     XVIL 

pecially  by  the  rulers)  frequently  were,  but  appears  to 
have  been  diclated  by  a  fmcere  and  anxious  wifli  to  be  in- 
ftrucled  in  the  way  to  that  everlafting  life,  which  he  found 
Jefus  held  out  to  his  difciples.  His  condud:  had  been  con- 
formable to  the  precepts  of  that  religion  in  which  he  was 
born  and  educated,  the  religion  of  Mofes  ;  for  when  our 
Lord  pointed  out  to  him  the  commandments  he  was  to- 
keep,  his  anfwer  was,  "  all  thefe  things  have  I  kept  from 
my  youth  up  ;"  and  his  difpofition  alfo,  we  muft  conclude, 
to  have  been  an  amiable  one  ;  for  we  are  told  that  Jefus 
loved  him,  beheld  him  with  a  certain  degree  of  regard  and 
affeflion.  In  this  ftate  of  mind  then  he  came  to  Jefus^ 
and  afked  the  queftion  already  ftated  ;  "  Good  M after, 
what  good  thing  fhall  I  do  that  I  may  have  eternal  life  V* 

Our  Lord's  anfwer  was,  "  If  thou  wilt  enter  into  life, 
keep  the  commandments.  The  young  man  faith  unto 
him,  Which  ?  Jefus  faid.  Thou  fhalt  do  no  murder,  thou 
flialt  not  commit  adultery,  thou  iTialt  not  fteal,  thou  fhalt 
not  bear  falfe  witnefs.  Honor  thy  father  and  thy  moth- 
er :  and,  thou  fhalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyfelf."  lu 
this  enumeration,  it  is  obfervable  that  our  Lord  does  not 
recite  all  the  ten  commandments,  but  only  five  out  of  thofe 
that  compofe  what  is  called  the  fecond  table.  Now  we 
cannot  imagine  that  Jefus  meant  to  fay  that  the  obferva- 
tion  of  a  fenv  of  God's  commands  would  put  the  young 
man  in  poiTeffion  of  eternal  life.  His  intention  unquef- 
tionably  was,  by  a  very  common  figure  of  fpeech,  to  make 
a  part  ftand  for  the  whole  ;  and  inftead  of  enumerating 
^// the  commandments,  to  fpecify  only  a  few,  which  were 
to  reprefent  the  reft.  Thou  fhalt  do  no  murder,  thou  fhalt 
not  commit  adultery,  and  fo  of  all  the  other  command- 
ments, to  which  my  reafoning  equally  applies."  Nor 
does  he  only  include  in  his  injunction  the  ten  command- 
ments, but  all  the  moral  commandments,  of  God  con- 
tained in  the  law  of  Mofes  ;  for  he  mentions  one  which  is 
not  to  be  found  in  the  ten  commandments  ;  "  Thou  fhalt 
love  thy  neighbor  as  thyfelf "  This  therefore  points  out 
to  the  young  man  his  obligations  to  obferve  all  the  other 
moral  precepts  of  the  law.  "  The  young  man  faith  unto 
him,  all  thefe  things  have  I  kept  from  my  youth  up  j- 
what  lack  I  yet  V    The  probability  is,    that  he  flattered 


LECTURE    XVin.  2'Sr 

lumfelf  he  lacked  nothing ;  that  his  obedience  to  the  moral: 
law  rendered  him  perfecty  qualified  him  to  become  a  difci-- 
pie  and  follower  of  Chrift  here,  and  gave  him  a  claim  to 
a  fuperior  degree  of  felicity  hereafter.  It  was  to  reprefs. 
thefe  imaginations,  which  Jefus  faw  rifmg  in  his  mind,, 
that  he  gave  him  the  following  anfwer  ;  an  anfw^er  which> 
ftruck  the  young  man  with  aftonifhment  and  grief,  and 
w^hlc]i  fome  have  reprefented  as  more  harfh  and  fevere 
than  his  conduit  merited.  "  If  thou  wilt  be  perfeifl,  go 
and.  fell  that  thou  haft,  and*  give  to  the  poor,  and  tliou 
fhalt  have  treafure  in  heaven,  and  come  and  follow  me." 
In  the  parallel  place  of  St.  Mark,  it  is,  "  Come  and  take 
up  the  crofs  and  follow  me."  The  meaning  is,  although 
God  is  pleafed  to  accept  gracioufly  your  obedience  to  tlie 
moral  law,  yet  you  muft  not  flatter  yourfelf  that  your 
obedience  is  perfe£i  ;  and  that  this  perfe(5l  obedience  gives 
you  a  right  or  claim  to  eternal  life  ;  much  lefs  to  a  fuperior 
degree  of  reward  in  heaven  ;:  far  from  it.  To  convince 
you  how  far  you  fall  fliort  of  perfiSion,  I  will  put  your 
obedience  to  the  teft,  in  a  trying  inftance,  and  you  fliall 
then  judge  whether  you  are  fo  perfeiH:  as  you  fuppofe  your- 
felf. You  fay  that  you  have  from  your  youth  kept  the 
moral  laws  delivered  to  you  by  Mofes.  Now  one  of  tnofe 
laws  is  this,  "  Thouflialt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all 
thy  heart,  with  all  thy  foul,  and  with  ail  tliy  might."  If 
therefore  you  pretend  to  perfeflion,  you  muft  obferve  this 
law  as  well  as  all  the  reft,  and  confequently  you  muft  prefer 
his  favor  to  every  tiling  elfe  ;  you  muft  be  ready  to  facrifice 
to  his  commands  every  thing  tliat  is  moft  valuable  to  you  in 
this  world.  I  now  therefore  as  a  teacher  fent  from  God, 
require  you  to  fell  ail  you  have,  and  give  to  the  poor,  and 
follow  me,  and  you  fnall  then  have  treafure  in  heaven. 
Tlie  young  man  made  no  reply.  He  could  not.  He  faw 
all  his  pretenfions  to perfidion,  his  hopes  of  an  extraordinary 
rev/ard,  vanifaat  once.  He  was  not  difpofed  to  purchafe 
even  treafures  in  heaven  at  the  price  of  all  he  poiTefted  on 
earth.  He  therefore  went  away  filent  and  forrow^ul,  for 
he  had  great  pofteffions* 

There  is  a  queftion  v.^hich  I  fuppofe  naturally  arifes  In 
every  man's  mind,  on  reading  this  converfation  between  the 
young  ruler  and  Jefus.     Does  the  Injundlion  here  given  to 


^8  LECTURE    XVII, 

the  young  man  by  Jefus  relate  to  all  Chrifllans  In  general^ 
and  are  we  all  of  us,  without  exception,  bound  to  fell  all 
that  we  have  and  give  to  the  poor,  as  a  necefiary  condition 
of  obtaining  treafure  in  heaven  ?  Tl:ie  anfwer  is,  moft 
afliiredly  not.  Our  Lord's  command  refers  folely  to  the 
individual  perfon  to  whom  he  addreffed  himfelf,  or  at  the 
moft  to  thofe  who  at  that  time  became  difciples  of  Chrift. 
I  have  already  fhewn  that  our  Saviour's  objedt,  in  giving 
this  command  to  the  young  man,  was  probably  to  lower 
the  high  opinion  he  feemed  to  entertain  of  his  perfedt  obe- 
dience to  the  laws  of  Mofes,  to  convince  him  that  he  was 
very  far  from  that  exalted  ftate  of  piety  and  virtue  to  which 
he  pretended,  and  that  if  he  was  rewarded  with  eternal 
life,  it  muft  be  not  in  confequence  of  his  own  righteoufnefs,, 
but  of  the  mercy  of  God,  and  the  merits  of  a  Redeemer, 
as  yet  unknown  to  him. 

But  befides  this,  it  is  not  improbable  that  the  young 
ruler  was  ambitious  to  enlift  under  the  banners  of  Chrift, 
and  to  become  one  of  his  difciples  and  followers.  And  at 
that  time  no  one  could  do  this  whofe  time  and  thoughts 
were  engaged  in  worldly  concerns,  and  in  the  care  and 
management  and  attendant  luxuries  of  a  large  fortune. 
Nor  was  this  all ;  every  man  that  embarked  in  fo  perilous 
an  undertaking,  did  it  at  the  rifque  not  only  of  his  pro- 
perty, but  even  of  life  itfelf,  from  the  perfecuting  fpirit 
of  the  J ewiih  rulers.  When,  therefore,  our  Saviour  fays 
to  the  young  man,  if  thou  wilt  be  perfe&,  that  is,  if  thou 
art  defirous  to  profefs  the  more  perfedl  religion  of  the 
Gofpel,  and  to  become  one  of  my  followers,  go  and  fell 
that  thou  haft,  and  give  to  the  poor,  and  take  up  the  crofs 
and  follow  me ;  he  only  prepares  him  for  the  great  hardfhips 
and  dangers  to  which  every  follower  of  Chrift  was  then 
expofed,  and  the  neceffity  there  was  for  him  to  fit  loofe  to 
every  thing  moft  valuable  in  the  prefent  life. 

This  command,  therefore,  does  not  in  its  primary 
meaning  relate  to  Chriftians  of  the  prefent  times  ;  nor 
indeed  to  Chriftians  at  all,  properly  fpeaking,  but  to  thofe 
who  were  at  that  time  defirous  of  becoming  fo. 


LECTURE     XVII.  269 

But  though  in  a  ftridt  and  literal  fenfe  it  cannot  be 
apphed  to  ourfelves,  yet  in  its  principle  and  in  its  general 
import,  it  conveys  a  mod  ufeful  and  moft  important 
ieffon  to  Chriftians  in  every  age  and  in  every  nation  ;  it  is 
an  admonition  to  them  not  to  pique  themfelves  too  much 
on  their  exacft  obedience  to  all  the  divine  commands,  not 
to  aiTume  to  themfelves  £o  much  perfedion,  as  to  found 
upon  it  a  righi  and  a  claim  to  eternal  life  ;  not  to  rely  folely 
on  their  own  righteoufnefs,  but  on  the  merits  of  their 
Redeemer,  for  acceptance  and  falvation.  It  reminds  them 
alfo,  that  they  ought  always  to  be  prepared  to  yield  an 
implicit  obedience  to  the  commands  of  their  Maker ;  and 
that  if  their  duty  to  him  fhould  at  any  time  require  it, 
they  fliould  not  heiitate  to  renounce  tlieir  deareft  interefls 
and  moft  favorite  pleafures  ;  to  part  with  fame,  with  for- 
tune, and  even  life  itfelf ;  and,  under  all  circumftances, 
to  confider  in  the  firft  place  what  it  is  tliat  God  requires  at 
their  hands,  and  to  fubmit  to  it,  whatever  it  may  coft  tliem, 
without  a  murmur. 

After  tliis  converfation  Vv'ith  tlie  young  ruler,  follows 
the  obfervation  made  by  our  Lord  on  this  remarkable 
incident.  Then  fald  Jefus  unto  his  difciples,  "  Verily  I 
fay  unto  you,  that  a  rich  man  fhall  hardly  enter  into  the 
liingdom  of  heaven.  And  again  I  fay  unto  you,  it  is 
eafier  for  a  camel  to  go  through  the  eye  of  a  needle, 
than  for  a  rich  man  to  enter  the  kingdom  of  God." 
Vv^'hen  his  difciples  heard  it  they  were  amazed,  faying, 
**  who  then  can  be  faved  ?"  But  Jefus  beheld  them,  and 
faid  unto  them,  "  With  men  this  is  impoflible,  but  witli 
God  all  things  are  poffible."  This  fentence  paifed  upon 
the  rich  is  a  declaration,  which  if  underftcod  literally^ 
and  as  applying  to  al!  Chriftians  of  the  prefent  day, 
who  may  juftly  be  called  rich,  would  be  truly  terrifying 
and  alarming  to  a  very  large  defcription  of  m.en,  a  much 
larger  than  may  at  firft  perhaps  be  Lrnagined.  For  by  rich 
men  muft  be  underftood,  not  only  thofe  of  high  rank  and 
large  poirelTions,  but  thofe  in  every  rank  of  life,  vAio  have 
any  fuperfluity  beyond  what  is  necelfary  for  the  decent 
and  comfortable  fupport  oi  themfelves  and  their  famihes, 
Thefe  are  all  to  be  confidered  as  rtc/j  in  a  greater  or  le:.- 
degree,  and  this  of  courfe  muft  comprehend  a  very  larg-. 


^70  LECTURE     XVIL 

part  of  the  Chriflian  world.  Does  tlien  our  Lord  meah 
to  fay,  that  it  is  fcarce  poffible  for  fuch  vaft  numbers  of 
Chriftians  to  be  faved  ?  This  does  certainly  at  the  firft  view 
feem  to  be  implied  in  that  very  ftrong  expreflion,  that  it  is 
eafier  for  a  camel  to  go  through  the  eye  of  a  needle,  than 
for  a  rich  man  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 
But  it  may  fairly  be  prefumed,  that  it  was  not  our  Lord's 
intention  to  pronounce  fo  very  fevere  and  difcouraging  a 
fentence  as  this^  and  to  render  the  way  to  heaven  almoft 
inaccefGble  to  fo  very  confiderable  a  number  of  his  difci- 
ples.  And  in  fa6t  on  a  careful  confideration  of  this  paf- 
fage,  of  the  limitations  and  abatements  necelfary  to  be 
made  in  proverbial  exprefTions  and  oriental  idioms,  and  of 
the  explanations  given  cf  it  in  other  parts  of  Scripture, 
and  even  by  our  Lord  himfelf,  it  will  appear  that  there  is 
nothing  in  it  which  ought  to  infpire  terror  and  difmay  into 
the  heart  of  any  fmcere  and  real  Chriftian,  be  his  fituation 
ever  fo  exalted  or  affluent. 

It  muft  be  obferved  then  in  the  firfl  place,  what  is  ex- 
ceedingly important  in  this  enquiry,  that  in  its  original 
application,  this  paiTage  does  not  feem  to  have  attached 
upon  thofe  who  were  then  actually  difciples  of  Chrift, 
but  upon  thofe  only  who  were  defirous  of  becoming  fo  ^ 
for  confider  only  the  occafion  which  gave  rife  tOjrthis  re- 
flexion. It  was  that  very  incident  on  which  we  have  juft 
been  commenting  ;  that  of  the  young  rich  ruler  whom  our 
Saviour  exhorted  to  fell  all  that  he  had  and  take  up  his  crofs 
and  follow  him.  The  young  man  notrelifhing  thefe  condi- 
tions, inilead  of  following  Jefus,  wentav/ay  forrowful,  be- 
caufe  he  had  great  pofeffions.  He  therefore  never  was,  as 
far  as  we  know,  a  difciple  of  Clirift  ;  and  it  was  upon  this 
that  Jefus  immediately  declared,  that  "  a  rich  man  Ihall 
hardly  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven ;"  that  is,  fliall 
hardly  be  induced  to  embrace  the  Chriftian  religion  ;  for 
that  is  frequently  the  fignification  of  the  k'wgihm  of  heaven^ 
in  Scripture.  What  then  our  Lord  affirmed  was  this, 
that  it  was  extremely  difficult  at  that  time,  at  the  firft 
preaching  of  the  Gofpel,.  for  any  rich  man  to  become  a 
convert  to  Chiiftianity.  And  this  we  may  eaf ily  believe  ; 
for  thofe  who  v/ere  enjoying  all  the  comforts  and  elegancies, 
and  luxuries  of  life,  would  not  be  very  leady  to  facrifice 


LECTURE    XVIL  271 

^efe,  and  fubmit  to  poverty,  hardfliips,  perfecutions> 
3ind  even  death  itfelf,  to  which  the  firft  converts  to  Chrif- 
tianlty  were  frequently  expofed.  They  would  therefore 
generally  follow  the  example  of  the  rich  man  before  us : 
would  turn  their  backs  on  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  and  go 
away  to  the  world  and  its  enjoyments.  And  this  in  fadt 
we  know  to  have  been  the  cafe.  For  it  was  of  the  lower 
ranks  of  men  that  our  Lord's  difciples  principally  confifted, 
and  we  are  exprefsly  told  that  it  was  the  common  people 
chiefly  that  heard  him  gladly  ;  and  even  after  his  death, 
St.  Paul  afferts  that  not  many  mighty,  not  many  noble, 
were  called.  It  fliould  feem  then,  that  the  primary  ob- 
jedls  of  this  declaration  were  thofe  rich  men  to  whom  the 
Gofpel  was  then  offered,  and  of  whom  very  few  embraced 
it.  And  as  no  penal  law  ought  to  be  ftretched  beyond  its 
ftri(5l  and  literal  fenfe,  I  do  not  conceive  that  we  are 
authorifed  to  apply  this  fevere  fentence  to  thofe  opulent 
perfons  who  now  profefs  themfelves  Chriftians,  and  to  fay 
of  them  that  it  is  eafier  for  a  camel  to  go  through  the  eye 
of  a  needle,  than  for  a  rich  man  to  inherit  the  rewards  of 
heaven.  Still  however,  as  the  words  themfelves  will  per- 
haps bear  fuch  an  application,  it  is  not  improbable  that 
our  Lord  might  have  an  eye  to  rich  men  in  future  profef- 
fmg  Chriftianity,  as  well  as  to  the  rich  men  of  thofe  days, 
who  were  either  Jews  or  Heathens.  But  if  it  does  relate 
to  rich  Chriftians  at  all,  I  have  no  difllculty  in  faying, 
tliat  it  muft  be  in  a  very  qualified  and  mitigated  fenfe  of 
the  words,  fuch  as  fhall  not  bar  up  the  gates  of  heaven 
againfl  any  true  believers  in  Chrift,  or  infpire  terror  and 
defpair,  where  friendly  admonition  w^as  only  meant. 

The  firft  thing  then  to  be  remarked  is,  that  although 
the  fimilitude  here  made  ufe  of,  that  of  a  camel  paffing 
through  the  eye  of  a  needle,  implies  abfolute  impofSbility, 
yet  according  to  every  rule  of  interpreting  oriental  prov- 
erbs (for  fuch  this  is)  it  means  only,  in  its  application, 
great  difficulty.  And  in  this  fenfe  it  vras  adually  ufedbotli 
by  the  Jews  and  the  Arabians ;  and  is  plainly  fo  interpret- 
ed by  our  Lord,  when  he  fays  that  a  rich  man  fhall  hv.rdly 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 


272  LECTURE     XVII. 

But  even  in  this  fenfe  the  words  do  not  apply  to  all  rlcls 
men  without  diftinftion.  For  in  the  parallel  place  of  St, 
Mark*,  upon  the  diiciples  expreffing  their  aftonifhment  at 
our  "Lord's  declaration,  he  immediately  explains  himfelf 
by  faying,  how  hard  is  it  for  them  that  trujl  in  riches  t» 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  and  it  is  after  this  ex- 
planation, that  the  proverbial  paffage  follows,  "  it  is  eafi- 
er  for  a  camel  to  go  through  the  eye  of  a  needle,  than  for 
a  rich  man  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 

We  fee  then  that  thofe  rich  men  only  are  meant,  who 
truJl  in  their  riches,  who  place  their  whole  dependence  upon 
them ;  whofe  views  and  hopes  are  centered  in  them  and 
them  only ;  who  place  their  whole  happinefs,  not  in  re- 
lieving the  diftrefTes  of  the  poor,  and  foothing  the  forrows 
of  the  affiifted  ;  not  in  adts  of  worihip  and  adoration,  and 
thankfgiving  to  him  from  whofe  bounty  they  derive  every 
bleffing  they  enjoy ;  not  in  giving  him  their  hearts,  and 
dedicating  their  wealth  to  his  glory  and  his  fervice,  but  in 
amafling  it  v/ithout  end,  or  fquandering  it  without  any 
benefit  to  mankind,  in  making  it  the  inftrument  of  pleaf- 
ure,  of  luxury,  of  diflipation,  of  vice,  and  the  means  of 
■gratifying  every  irregular  appetite  and  paiTion  without 
controul.     Thefe  are  the  rich  men,  whofe  falvation  is  repr 
refented  by  our  Saviour  to  be  almoft  impoffible  ;  and  yet 
even  with  refpeift  to  thefe  he  adds ;  with  men  this  is  im- 
poffible, but  with  God  all  things  are  poffible  ;  that  is,  al- 
though if  we  look  to  human  means,  to  human  ftrengtii 
alone,  it  feems  utterly  impoffible  that  fuch  men  as  thefe 
fhould  ever  repent  and  be  faved  ;  yet  to  die  power  of  God, 
to  the  overruling  influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit  nothing  is 
impoffible.     His  grace  fned  abroad  in  the  heart  may  touch 
it  with  cornpunftion  and  remorfe,  may  awaken  it  to  peni- 
tence, may  heal  all  its  corruptions,  may  illuminate,  may 
purify  may  fan^ify  it,  may  bring  the  mofl  worldly-mind- 
ed man  to  a  f:afe  of  his  condition,  and  make  him  tranf- 
'fer  his  trull:  from  riches  to  the  living  God. 

•     It  is  then  to  thole  that  irujl  in  riches  that  this  denunciation 
of  our  Lord  peculiarly,  applies  j  but  even  to  all  rich  men  in 

*  Mart  X    24. 


LECTURE     XVIL  21% 

general  it  holds  out  this  moft  important  admonition,  that 
their  fituation  is  at  the  beft  a  lituation  of  difficulty  and 
danger  j  that  their  riches  fumiih  them  with  fo  many  op- 
portunities of  indulging  every  wayward  wifli,  every  cor- 
rupt propenfity  of  their  hearts,  and  fpread  before  them  fo 
many  temptations,  fo  many  incitements,  fo  many  provo- 
cations to  luxury,  intemperance,  fenfuality,  pride,  for- 
getfulnefs  of  God,  and  contempt  of  every  thing  ferious 
and  facred,  that  it  is  fometimes  too  much  for  human  na- 
ture to  bear ;  that  they  have  therefore  peculiar  need  to 
take  heed  to  their  ways,  to  watch  inceffantly  over  their 
own  condud,  to  keep  their  hearts  witli  all  diligence,  to 
guard  the  iilues  of  life  and  death,  and  above  all,  to  im- 
plore with  unceafing  earneftnefs  and  fervor  that  help  from 
above,  thofe  communications  of  divine  grace,  which  can 
alone  enable  them,  and  which  will  efFedually  enable  them 
to  overcome  the  world,  and  to  vanquifh  all  tlie  powerful 
enemies  they  have  to  contend  with.  They  have  in  fhort 
their  way  plainly  marked  out  to  them  in  fcripture,  and  the 
cleareft  diredlions  given  them  how  they  are  to  condud: 
themfelves,  fo  as  to  become  partakers  of  everlajiing  life, 
«  Charge  them,  fays  St.  Paul,  that  are  rich  in  this  world, 
that  they  be  not  high-minded,  nor  truft  in  uncertain  riches, 
but  in  the  living  God,  who  giveth  us  richly  ail  things  to 
enjoy ;  that  they  do  good,  that  they  be  rich  in  good  v/orks, 
ready  to  diftribute,  willing  to  communicate,  laying  up  in 
ftore  for  themfelves  a  good  foundation  againft  the  time  to 
come,  that  they  may  lay  hold  on  eternal  life*." 

This  ftriking  charge  to  the  rich  is  pregnant  with  moft 
important  and  wholefome  counfel,  and  is  an  admirable 
comment  on  that  very  pa(rage  which  has  fo  long  engaged 
our  attention.  It  feems  indeed  to  allude  and  refer  to  it, 
and  points  out  all  thofe  diftindions  which  tend  to  explain 
away  its  feeming  harfhnefs,  and  afcertain  its  true  fpirit 
and  meaning. 

It  cautions  the  rich  men  of  the  world  not  to  trujl  in  un= 
certain  riches:  the  very  expreffion  made  ufe  of  by  our 
Lord,  and  the  very  circumftance  whidi  renders  it  fo  hard 

*  Tim.  vi-  17—19. 

u 


!i74.  LECTURE    XVIL 

for  thein  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  They  are 
tnjoined  to  place  their  truft  in  the  living  God.  They 
are  to  be  rich  in  a  far  brighter  treafure  than  gold  and  filver, 
in  faith  and  in  good  works  ;  and  if  they  are,  they  will 
'**'  lay  a  good  foundation  againft  the  time  to  come,  and  will 
lay  hold  on  eternal  life."  This  entirely  does  away  all  the 
terror,  all  the  difmay,  which  our  Lord's  denunciation 
might  tend  to  produce  in  the  minds  of  the  wealthy  and  the 
great:  it  proves  that  the  way  to  heaven  is  as  open  to  them^ 
as  to  all  other  ranks  and  conditions  of  men,  and  it  points 
out  to  them  the  very  means  by  vv-hich  they  may  arrive 
there.  Thefe  means  are,  truft  in  the  living  God,  dedica- 
tion of  themfelves  to  his  fervice  and  his  glory,  zeal  in  eve- 
ry good  work,  and  more  particularly  the  appropriation  of 
a  large  part  of  that  very  wealth,  which  conftitutes  their 
danger,  to  the  purpofes  of  piety,  charity,  and  beneficence. 
Thefe  are  the  ileps  by  which  they  muft,  through  the 
merits  t)f  their  Redeemer,  afcend  to  heaven.  Thofe  rich- 
es which  are  their  natural  enemies,  muft  be  converted  into 
allies  and  friends.  They  muft,  as  the  fcripture  expreffes 
it,  make  to  themfelves  "  friends  of  the  mammon  of  un- 
righteoufnefs* ;"  they  muft  be  ricli  towards  God  ;  they 
muft  turn  that  wealth,  which  is  /too  often  the  caufe  of 
their  perdition,  into  an  inftrunWnt  of  falvation,  into  an 
injlrument  by  which  they  m*ay  lay  holdy  as  the  apoftle  ex- 
preftes  it,  on  eternal  life. 

Before  I  quit  this  intereftmg  paflage,  it  may  be  of  ufe 
to  obfervc,  that  while  it  furnilhes  a  leffon  of  great  caution, 
"vigilance,  and  circumfpeftion  to  the  rich,  it  affords  alfo 
no  fmall  degree  of  confolation  to  the  poor.  If  they  are  lefs 
bountifully  provided  than  the  rich,  with  the  materials  of 
'happinefs  for  the  prefent  life,  let  them  however  be  thankful 
to  Providence  that  they  have  fewer  difhculties  to  contend 
with,  fewer  temptation's  to  combat,  and  fewer  obftacles 
to  furmount,  in  their  way  to  the  life  which  is  to  come. 
They  have  fortunately  no  means  of  indulging  themfelves  in 
that  luxury  and  diflipation,  thofe  extravagances  and  exceffes 
which  fometimes  difgrace  the  wealthy  and  the  great ;  and 
they  are  preferved  from  many  follies,  imprudences,  and  fms, 
equally  mjurious  to  prefent  comfort  and  future  happinefs. 

*  J.ukc,  xvi    9. 


LECTURE.     XVII.       .         275 

If  they  are  deftitute  of  all  tlie  elegancies  and  many  of  the 
conveniences  and  accommodations  of  life,  they  are  alfo 
exempt  from  tliofe  cares  and  anxieties  which  frequently 
corrode  the  heart,  and  perhaps  more  than  balance  the  en- 
joyments of  their  fuperiors.  The  inferiority  of  their  con- 
dition fecures  them  from  all  the  dangers  and  all  the  tor- 
ments of  ambition  and  pride  ;  it  produces  in  them  gener- 
ally that  meeknefs  and  lowlinefs  of  mind,  which  is  the 
chief  conftituent  of  a  true  evangelical  temper,  and  one 
of  the  mofl  elfential  qualifications  for  the  kingdom  of 
heaven. 

Jefus  having  made  thefe  obfervations  on  the  condu6l  of 
the  young  ruler,  who  refufed  to  part  with  his  wealth  and 
follow  him,  Peter  thought  this  a  fair  opportunity  of  afk- 
ing  our  Lord  what  reward  fliould  be  given  to  him,  and 
the  other  apoftles,  who  had  actually  done  what  the  young 
ruler  had  not  the  courage  and  the  virtue  to  do*  Then 
anfv/ered  Peter  and  faid  unto  him,  "  Lo  !  w^  have  forfa- 
ken  all,  and  followed  thee  ;  what  fhall  we  have  therefore  i"' 
It  is  true  the  apoftles  had  no  wealth  to  relinquifh,  but 
what  little  they  had  they  cheerfully  parted  with ;  they 
gave  up  their  «//,  they  took  up  their  crofs  and  followed 
Chrift.  Surely  after  fuch  a  facrifice  they  might  well  be 
allowed  to  aik  what  recompence  they  might  expeft,  and 
nothing  can  be  more  natural  and  affecting  than  their  ap- 
peal to  their  divine  Mafter :  "  Behold,  w^  have  forfaken 
all,  and  followed  thee  ;  what  fhall  ive  have  tlierefore  V* 
Our  Lord  felt  the  force  and  the  juftice  of  this  appeal,  and 
immediately  gave  them  this  moft  gracious  and  confolatory 
anfwer  :  *'  Verily  I  fay  unto  you,  that  ye  which  have  fol- 
lowed me  in  the  regeneration,  when  the  Son  of  man  fliall 
fit  in  the  throne  of  his  glory,  ye  alfo  fhall  fit  upon  twelve 
thrones,  judging  the  twelve  tribes  of  Ifrael :  and  every 
one  that  hath  forfaken  houfes,  or  brethren,  or  fifters,  or 
fathers,  or  mother,  or  wife,  or  children,  or  lands,  for 
my  name's  fake,  fhall  receive  an  hundred  fold,  and  fliall 
inherit  everlafting  life." 

Our  tranflators,  by  connecting  the  word  regeneration 
v/ith  the  preceding  words,  "  ye  which  have  followed  me 
in  the  regeneration,"    evidently  fuppofed  that  word  to 


276  LECTURE    XVII. 

relate  to  the  firft  preaching  of  the  Gofpel,  when  thoife 
who  heard  and  received  it  were  to  be  regenerated  or  made 
new  creatures. 

But  mod  of  the  ancient  fathers,  as  well  as  the  befl; 
modern  commentators,  refer  that  expreffion  to  the  words 
that  follow  it,  "  In  the  regeneration  when  the  Son  of  man 
ihall  fit  in  the  throne  of  his  glory  ;"  by  which  is  meant 
the  day  of  judgment  and  of  recompence,  when  all  man- 
kind fhall  be  as  it  were  regenerated  or  bom  again,  by  rifmg 
from  their  graves  ;  and  when,  as  St.  Matthew  tells  us  in 
the  27th  chapter  (making  ufe  of  the  very  fame  phrafe  that 
he  does  here)  the  Son  of  man  fhall  fit  on  the  throne  of  his 
glory.  At  that  folemn  hour  Jefus  tells  his  apoftles  that 
they  fhall  alfo  fit  upon  twelve  thrones  judging  tlie  twelve 
tribes  of  Ifrael.  This  is  an  allufion  to  the  cuftom  of 
princes  having  their  great  men  ranged  around  them  as 
affeffors  ^d  advifers  when  they  fit  in  council  or  in  judg- 
ment: or  more  probably  to  the  Jewifh  fanhedrim,  in 
which  the  high  prleft  fat  furrounded  by  the  principal  rulers, 
chief  priefts,  and  do<5lors  of  the  law  ;  and  it  was  meant 
only  to  exprefs,  in  thefe  figurative  terms,  that  the  apoflles 
fhould  In  the  kingdom  of  heaven  have  a  diflinguifhed 
pre-eminence  of  glory  and  reward,  and  a  place  of  honor 
affigned  them  near  the  perfon  of  our  Lord  himfelf. 

Jefus  then  goes  on  to  fay,  "  everyone  that  hath  forfaken 
houfes,  or  brethren,  or  fifllers,  or  father,  or  mother,  or 
wife,  or  children,  or  lands,  for  my  name's  fake,  fhall 
receive  an  hundred  fold,  and  fhall  inherit  everlafling  life." 
It  is  plain,  both  from  the  conftruftion  of  this  verfe,  and 
from  the  exprefs  words  of  St.  Mark  in  the  parallel  paffage, 
tliat  the  reward  here  promifed  to  the  apoftles,  whatever  it 
might  be,  was  to  be  beftov/ed  in  the  prefent  luorld  ;  befides 
which  they  were  to  inherit  everlafting  life. 

What  then,  it  may  be  afked,  is  this  recompence,  which 
was  to  take  place  in  the  prefent  life,  and  was  to  be  a 
hunrj-red  fold  ?  It  certainly  cannot  be  a  hundred  fold  of 
thofe  worldly  advantages  which  are  fuppofed  to  be  relin- 
quifhed  for  the  fake  of  Chrift  and  his  religion  ;  for  a 
multiplication  of  feveral  of   thefe  things,    inftead  of  a 


LECTURE     XVIL  277 

reward,   would  have    been  an  Incumbrance.     And  we 
know  in  facl  the  apoftles  never  did  abound  in  worldly 
pofleffions,  but  were  for  the  moft  part  deftitute  and  poor. 
The  recompence  then  here  promifed  muft  have  been  of  a 
very  different  nature  ;  it  is  that  internal  content  and  fatif- 
fadlion  of   mind,    that  peace   of    God  which  pafleth  all 
underftanding,  thofe  delights  of  a  pure  confcience  and  an 
upright  heart,  that  affeAionate  fupport  of  all  good  men, 
thofe  confolations  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  that  truft  and  confi- 
dence in  God,  that  confcioufnefs  of  the  divine  favor  and 
approbation,    thofe  reviving  hopes  of  everlafting  glory, 
which  every  good  man  and  fnicere  Chriftian  never  fails  to 
experience  in  the  difcharge  of  his  duty.     Thefe  are  the 
things  which  will  cheer  his  heart  and  fuftain  his  fpirits, 
amidll  all  the  difcouragements  he  meets  with,  under  tlie 
preflure  of  want,    of  poverty,  of  aiflidtion,  of  calumny, 
of  ridicule,  of  perfecution,  and  even  under  the  tensors  of 
death  itfelf,  v/hich  will  recompence  him  a  hundred  fold  for 
all  the  facrifices  he  has  made  to  Chrift  and  his  religion, 
and  impart  to  him  a  degree  of  comfort  and  tranquillity 
and  happinefs,    far  beyond  any  thing  that  all  the  wealth 
and  fplendour  of  this  world  can  beftow.     That  this  is  not 
a  mere  ideal  reprefentation,  we  may  fee  in  the  example  of 
thofe  very  perfons  to  whom  this  difcourfe  of  our  Saviour 
was  addrelfed.     We  may  fee  a  pi6ture  of  the  felicity  here 
defcribed,  drawn  by  the  mafterly  hand  of  St.  Paul,  in  his 
Second  Epiftle  to  the   Corinthians.     "  We  are,    fays  he 
(fpeaking  of  himfelf  and  his  fellow-labourers  in  the  Gof- 
pel)  we    are  approving  ourfelves  in   much  patience,  in 
affliaions,  in  necefTities,  in  diftrefTes,  in  ftripes,  in  imprifon- 
ments,  in  tumults,  in  labours,  in  watchings,  in  faftings  ;  by 
purenefs,  by  knowledge,  by  long-fulfering,  by  kindnefs,  by 
the  Holy  Ghoft,  by  love  unfeigned,  by  the  word  of  truth, 
by  the  power  of  God,  by  the  armour  of  righteoufnefs  on 
the  right  hand  and  on  the  left,  by  honor  and  difhonor,  by 
evil  report  and  good  report  ;  as  deceivers,  and  yet  true  ; 
as  unknown,  and  yet  well  known  ;  as  dying,  and  behold 
we  live  ;    as  chaftened,  and  not  killed  ;  as  forrov/ful,  yet 
always  rejoicing ;    as  poor,    yet  making  many  rich  ;    as 
having  nothing,  and  yet  poffeffing  all  things."     We  have 
here  a  portrait,  not  merely  of  patience  and  fortitude,  but 
of  cheerfulnefs  and  joy  under  the  accuteft  fuiferings,  which 


278  LECTURE     XVIL 

is  no  where  to  be  met  with  in  the  writings  of  the  mof?: 
celebrated  heathen  philofophers.  The  utmoft  that  they 
pretended  to  was  a  contempt  of  pain,  a  determination  not 
to  be  fubdued  by  it,  and  not  even  to  acknowledge  that  it 
was  an  evil.  But  we  never  hear  them  expreffing  that 
cheerfulnefs  and  joy  under  fulFering,  which  we  here  fee  in 
the  appoftles  and  firft  difciples  of  Chrifl;.  Indeed  it  was 
impoffible  that  they  fhould  rife  to  thefe  extraordinary 
exertions  of  the  human  mind,  fmce  they  wanted  all  thofe 
fupports  which  bore  up  the  appoftles  under  the  feverefl 
calamities,  and  raifed  them  above  all  the  common  weak- 
neifes  and  infirmities  of  their  nature ;  namely,  the 
confcioufnefs  of  being  embarked  In  the  greateft  and  nobleft 
undertaking  that  ever  engaged  the  mind  of  man,  an 
unbounded  truft  and  confidence  in  the  protedion  of  heaven, 
a  large  participation  of  the  divine  influences  and  confola- 
tions  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  a  firm  and  well  grounded 
hope  of  an  eternal  reward  in  another  life,  which  would 
infinitely  overpay  all  their  labors  and  their  forrows  in  this. 
Thefe  were  the  fources  of  that  content  and  cheerfulnefs,  that 
vigour  and  vivacity  of  mind,  under  the  fevereft  affli(5lions, 
which  nothing  could  deprefs,  and  which  nothing  but 
Chriftian  philofophy  could  produce. 

Here  then  we  have  a  full  explanation  of  our  Lord's 
promlfe  in  the  paffage  before  us,  that  every  one  who  had 
forfaken  houfes,  or  brethren,  or  fifters,  or  fatlier,  or  mother, 
or  wife,  or  children,  or  lands,  for  his  name's  fake,  fhould 
receive  a  hundred  fold,  fhould  receive  abundant  recom- 
pence  in  the  comfort  of  their  own  minds,  as  defcrlbed  in 
the  correfponding  pafiage  of  St.  Paul,  juft  cited  ;  which 
may  be  confidered  not  only  as  an  admirable  comment  on 
our  Lord's  declaration,  but  as  an  exact  fulfilment  of  the 
predialon  contained  In  It.  For  that  declaration  is  plainly 
prophetic  ;  it  foretels  the  perfecution  his  difciples  would 
meet  with  In  the  dlfcharge  of  their  duty  ;  and  foretels 
alfo,  that  in  the  midft  of  thefe  perfecutions  they  would  be 
undaunted  and,  joyful.  And  there  cannot  be  a  more  per- 
fect completion  of  any  prophecy,  than  that  which  St. 
Paul's  difcrlption  fets  before  us  with  refpect  to  this. 

But  we  muft  not  confine  this  promlfe  of  our  Saviour's 
to  his  own  immediate  followers  and  difciples ;    it  extends 


LECTURE    XVII.  27^ 

to  all  his  faithful  fervants  in  every  age  and  nation  of  the 
world,  that  part  with  any  thing  which  is  dear  and  valuable 
to  them  for  the  fake  of  the  GofpeL  Whoever  has  pafTed 
any  time  in  the  world,  muil  have  feen  that  every  man 
who  is  fmcere  in  the  profeiTion  of  his  religion,  who  fets 
God  always  before  him,  and  who  feeks  above  all  things 
his  favor  and  approbation,  muft  fometimes  make  great 
and  painful  facrifices  to  the  commands  of  his  Maker  and 
Redeemer  ;  and  whoever  does  fo,  whoever  gives  up  his 
pleafures,  his  interefls,  his  fame,  his  favorite  purfuits, 
his  fondelt  wifhes,  and  his  ftrongen;  paffions,  for  the  fake 
of  his  duty,  and  in  conformity  to  the  will  of  his  heavenly 
Father,  may  reft  affiired,  that  he  fliall  in  no  wife  lofe  his 
reward.  He  fhall  in  a  degree  proportioned  to  the  felf- ' 
denial  he  has  exercifed,  and  the  fufferings  he  has  under- 
gone, experience  the  prefent  comfort  and  fupport  here 
promifed  to  the  apoftles ;  and  fliall  alfo,  though  not  to 
the  fame  extent,  have  an  extraordinary  recompence  in  the 
kingdom  of  heaven. 

Let  no  one  then  be  deterred  from,  pei-fevering  in  the  path 
of  duty,  whatever  difcouragements,  difficulties,  or  ob- 
ftruftions  he  may  meet  with  in  his  progrefs,  either  from 
tlie  ftruggles  he  has  witli  his  own  corrupt  affedtions,  or 
from  the  malevolence  of  the  world.  Let  him  not  fear  to 
encounter,  what  he  muft  expe6l  to  meet  with,  oppofition, 
contumely,  contempt  and  ridicule  ;  let  him  not  fear  the 
enmity  of  profligate  and  unprincipled  men  ;  but  let  him 
go  on  undaunted  and  undifmayed  in  that  uniform  tenor  of 
piety  and  benevolence,  of  purity,  integrity,  and  upright- 
nefs  of  conduct,  which  will  not  fail  to  bring  him  peace  at 
the  laft.  Let  him  not  be  furprized  or  alarmed  if  he  is  not 
exempt  from  the  common  lot  of  every  fmcere  and  zealous 
Chriftian  ;  if  he  finds  it  by  his  own  experience  to  be  true, 
what  an  apoftle  of  Chrift  has  long  fmce  prepared  him  to 
expedt,  that  whofoever  will  live  godly  in  Chrift  Jefus  ftiall 
in  one  way  or  other  Juffer  perfecution.  But  let  him  remem- 
ber at  the  fame  time  the  reviving  and  Gonfolatory  declara- 
tion of  his  divine  Mafter  ;  *•  Bleffed  are  ye  when  men  fhall 
revile  you  and  perfecute  you,  and  fhall  fay  all  manner  of 
evil  againft  you  falfely  for  my  fake.  Rejoice,  and  be  ex- 
ceeding glad ;  for  great  is  your  reward  in  heaven." 


,^4-<-4..<,.<-<..<..<..<..<..<..<  .<..<..<..<..<..<..<..«..<..<>..>..>.  >..>..>..>M>.>..>..>..>..>^>..>..>.  >.>.>.>..>.->.. 


LECTURE     XVIIL 


MATTH.  xxii. 


I 


NOW  pafs  on  to  the  twenty-fecond  chapter  of  Stc. 
Matthew,  in  which  our  blefled  Lord  introduces  the  follow- 
ing parable : 

"  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  unto  a  certain  king, 
which  made  a  marriage  for  his  fon,  and  fent  forth  his 
fervants  to  call  them  that  were  bidden  to  the  wedding, 
and  they  would  not  come.  Again  he  fent  forth  other  fer- 
vants, faying,  tell  them  which  are  bidden.  Behold  I  have 
prepared  my  dinner  ;  my  oxen  and  my  fatlings  are  killed, 
and  all  things  are  ready ;  come  unto  the  marriage.  But 
they  made  light  of  it,  and  went  their  ways,  one  to  his 
farm,  another  to  his  merchandize  ;  and  the  remnant  took 
his  fervants  and  entreated  them  fpitefully,  and  flew  them. 
But  when  the  king  heard  thereof,  he  was  wroth  ;  and  he 
fent  forth  his  armies,  and  deftroyed  thofe  murderers,  and 
burnt  up  their  city.  Then  faith  he  to  his  fervants,  the 
v/edding  is  ready,  but  they  which  were  bidden  were  not 
worthy.  Go  ye  therefore  into  the  highways,  and  as  many 
as  ye  fhall  find,  bid  to  the  marriage.  So  thofe  fervants 
went  out  into  the  highways,  and  gathered  togetlier  all  as 
many  as  they  could  find,  both  bad  and  good,  and  the 
wedding  was  furniftied  with  guefts.  And  when  the  king 
came  in  to  fee  the  guefts,  he  faw  there  a  man  which  had 
not  on  a  wedding  garment.  And  he  faith  unto  him. 
Friend,  how  cameft  thou  in  hither,  not  having  on  a  wed- 
ding garment  ?  and  he  was  fpeechlefs.  Then  faid  the 
king  to  his  fervants,  bind  him  hand  and  foot,  and  caft 
him  into  outer  darknefs  ;  tliere  fhall  be  weeping  and  gnaili- 
ing  of  teeth ;  for  many  are  called,  but  few  are  chofen." 

The  primary  and  principal  objedt  of  this  parable  Is  to 
leprefent,  under  the  image  of    a  marriage  feaft,    the- 
U  2 


282  LECTURE     XVIII. 

invitation  given  to  the  Jews  to  embrace  the  Gofpel,  their 
rejedion  of  that  gracious  offer,  the  fevere  punifliment 
inflicted  upon  them  for.  their  ingratitude  and  obftinacy, 
and  the  admiffion  of  the  Heathens  to  the  privileges  of 
Chrlftianity  in  their  room. 

"  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  unto  a  certain  king> 
which  made  a  marriage  for  his  fon." 

That  is,  the  difpenfations  of  the  Almighty,  with  refpefl 
to  the  Chriftian  religion,  which  is  called  the  kingdom  of 
heaven,  may  be  compared  to  the  conduft  of  a  certain  king, 
who  (as  was  the  cuftom  in  thofe  times,  efpeclally  among 
the  eaftern  nations)  gave  a  fplendid  feaft  in  confequence 
of  his  fon's  marriage.  And  in  this  comparlfon  there  is  a 
peculiar  propriety,  becaufe  both  the  Jewifii  and  the 
Chriftian  covenant  are  frequently  reprefented  in  Scripture 
under  the  fimilltude  of  a  marriage  contract  between  God 
and  his  people*.  "  And  he  fent  forth  his  fervants  to  call 
them  that  were  bidden  to  the  wedding,  and  they  v/ould 
not  come.  Again  he  fent  forth  other  fervants,  faying,  tell 
them  which  are  bidden.  Behold  I  have  prepared  my  din- 
ner ;  my  oxen  and  my  fatlings  are  killed,  and  all  things 
are  ready  ;  come  unto  the  marriage."  This  fignlfies  the 
various  and  repeated  offers  of  the  Gofpel  to  the  Jews  ; 
firft  by  Job_n  the  Baptift,  then  by  our  Saviour  himfelf,  then 
by  his  appoftles  and  the  feventy  difciples,  both  before  and 
after  his  afcenfion. 

But  all  thefe  gracious  offers  the  greater  part  of  the 
nation  rejected  with  fcom.  They  would  not  come  to  the 
marriage  ;  they  made  light  of  it,  and  went]  their  ways, 
one  to  his  farm,  another  to  his  merchandife  ;  and  the  rem- 
nant took  his  fervants,  and  entreated  them  fpitefuUy,  and 
flew  them.  They  not  only  flighted  and  treated  with 
contempt  the  words  of  eternal  life,  and  preferred  the 
pleafures  and  the  interefts  of  the  prefent  life  to  all  the 
joys  of  heaven,  but  they  purfued,  with  unceafmg  rancour, 
the  firft  preachers  of  the  Gofpel,  and  perfecuted  them  even, 
unto  death. 

*  See  Ifaiah  liv.  5.  Jeremiah  iii.  8.  Match,  xxv.  5.  2  Cor.  xi,  a* 


LECTURE     XVIIL  283 

**  But  when  the  king  heard  thereof,  he  was  wroth ;  and 
he  fent  fortli  his  armies,  and  deftroyed  thefe  murderers, 
and  burnt  up  their  city."  This  points  out,  in  the  plaineft 
terms,  the  Roman  armies  under  Vefpafian  and  Titus, 
which  not  many  years  after  this  was  fpoken,  befieged 
Jerufalem,  and  deftroyed  the  city,  and  flaughtered  an 
immenfe  number  of  the  inhabitants.  This  terrible  de- 
vaftation  our  Lord  here  predids  in  general  terms,  as  he 
does  more  particularly  and  minutely  in  the  twenty-fourth 
chapter  ;  and  he  here  reprefents  it  as  the  judgment  of  God 
on  this  perverfe  and  obftinate  people  for  their  rejedion  of 
the  Chriftian  religion,  their  favage  treatment  of  the  apot 
ties  and  their  allbciates,  and  their  many  odier  atrocious 
crimes.  This  punifhment  however  is  here,  by  anticipa- 
tion, reprefented  as  having  been  inflided  during  the  mar- 
riage feaft ;  though  it  did  not  in  fa(5l  take  place  till 
afterwards,  till  after  the  Gofpel  had  been  for  fome  time 
promulgated. 

"  Then  faid  he  to  his  fervants,  the  wedding  is  ready, 
but  they  which  were  bidden  were  not  worthy.  Go  ye 
therefore  into  the  highways,  and  as  many  as  ye  fhall  find 
bid  to  the  marriage.'  So  thofe  fervants  went  out  into  the 
high-ways,  and  gathered  together  all  as  many  as  they 
found,  both  bad  and  good  ;  and  the  wedding  was  fumilh- 
ed  with  guefts." 

It  may  be  thought,  perhaps,  at  the  firft  view,  that  our 
Lord  has  here  introduced  a  circumftance  not  very  natural 
or  probable.  It  may  be  imagined  that  at  a  magnificent 
royal  entertainment,  if  any  of  the  guefts  happened  to  fail 
in  their  attendance,  a  great  king  would  never  think  of 
fupplying  their  places  by  fending  his  fervants  into  the 
highv/ays  to  coUedl  together  all  the  travellers  and  ftrangers 
they  could  meet  with,  and  make  them  fit  down  at  the 
marriage  feaft.  But  ftrange  as  this  may  feem,  there  is 
fomething  that  approaches  very  near  to  it  in  the  cuftoms 
of  the  eafteni  nations,  even  in  modern  times.  For  a  travel- 
ler of  great  credit  and  reputation,  Dr.  Pococke,  informs 
us,  that  an  Arab  prince  will  often  dine  in  the  ftreet  before 
his  door,  and  call  to  all  that  pafs,  even  to  beggars,  in  the 
name  of  God,  and  they  come  and  fit  dovm  to  table ; 


284s  LECTURE     XVIII. 

and  when  they  have  done,  retire  with  the  ufual  form  of 
returning  thanks*. 

This  adds  one  more  proof  to  the  many  others  I  have 
already  pointed  out  in  the  courfe  of  thefe  Le6tures,  of  the 
exa6t  correfpondence  of  the  various  fadls  and  circumftances 
recorded  in  the  facred  writings  to  the  truth  of  hiftory, 
and  to  ancient  oriental  cuftoms  and  manners. 

This  part  of  the  parable  alludes  to  the  calling  in  of  the 
Gentiles  or  Heathens  to  the  privileges  of  the  Gofpel,  after 
they  had  been  haughtily  i ejected  by  the  Jews.  This  was 
firfl  done  by  St.  Peter  in  the  inftance  of  Cornelius,  and 
afterwards  extended  to  the  Gentiles  at  large  by  him  and 
the  other  apoftles,  conformable  to  what  our  Lord  declares 
in  another  placef .  "  Many  fhall  come  from  the  eaft  and 
from  tlie  weft,  and  fhall  fit  down  with  Abraham,  and 
Ifaac,  and  Jacob,  in  the  kingdom  of  God  ;  but  the  chil- 
dren of  the  kingdom  (that  is  the  Jews)  fhall  be  fhut  out." 
And  in  the  gracious  invitation,  no  exceptions,  no  diftinc- 
tions  were  to  be  made.  The  fervants  gathered  together 
«//asmany  as  they  found,  both  ^^z^ and  good;  men  of  all 
charadters  and  defcriptions  were  to  have  the  offers  of  mer- 
cy and  falvation  made  to  them,  even  the  very  worft  of 
Unners  ;  for  it  was  thefe  chiefly  that  our  Saviour  came  to 
call  to  repentance  ;  "  for  they  that  are  whole  need  not  a 
phyfician,  but  they  that  are  fickj  ;"  and  of  thefe  great 
numbers  did  actually  embrace  the  gracious  offers  made  to 
them  ;  for  our  Lord  told  the  Jews,  "  the  publicans  and 
the  harlots  go  into  the  kingdom  of  God  before  you||." 

In  this  manner  was  the  wedding  furnifhed  with  guefts. 
"  And  when  the  king  came  in  to  fee  the  guefts,  he  faw 
there  a  man  which  had  not  on  a  wedding  garment ;  and 
he  faid  unto  him,  Friend,  how  cameft  thou  in  hither,  not 
having  a  wedding  garment  ?  and  he  was  fpeechlefs.  Then 
faid  the  king  to  the  fervants,  bind  him  hand  and  foot,  and 
take  him  away,  and  caft  him  into  outer  darknefs  ;  there 
lliall  be  weeping  and  gnaftiing  of  teeth  :  for  many  are 
called,  but  few  are  chofen." 

*  Pococke,  vol.  i.  p.  57,  and  i8z.  See  alfo  Dioi.  Sic.  1,  xlli  p. 
375,  376. 

t  Matth.  viii.  n.  f  lb.  ix,  X2.  ||  lb,  xxi.   31, 


LECTURE     XVIII.  285 

In  order  to  underftand  this  part  of  the  parable,  it  mull 
be  obferved,  that  among  the  ancients,  efpecially  in  the 
the  eaft,  every  one  that  came  to  a  marriage  feaft  was  ex- 
pe<aed  to  appear  in  a  handfome  and  elegant  drefs,  which 
was  called  the  wedding  garment.  This  was  frequently  a 
white  robe  ;  and  where  the  gueft  was  a  Jiranger,  or  was 
not  able  to  provide  fuch  a  robe,  it  was  ufual  for  the  maf- 
ter  of  the  feaft  to  fumifh  him  with  one  ;  and  if  he  who 
gave  the  entertainment  was  of  high  rank  and  great  opu- 
lence, he  fometimes  provided  marriage  robes  for  the  whole 
affembly.  To  this  cuftom  we  have  allufions  in  Homer, 
and  other  claflic  writers*  ;  and  there  are  fome  traces  of  it 
in  the  entertainments  of  the  Turkifh  court  at  this  very 
dayf.  It  muft  be  remarked  aHb,  that  it  was  in  a  very 
high  degree  indecorous  and  ofFenfive  to  good  manners,  to 
intrude  into  the  feftivity  without  this  garment ;  hence  the 
indignation  of  the  king  againft  the  bold  intruder  who  dar- 
ed to  appear  at  the  marriage  feaft  without  the  nuptial  gar- 
ment. "  He  was  caft  into  outer  darknefs  ;"  he  was  driven 
away  from  the  blaze  and  fplendor  of  the  gay  apartments 
within,  to  the  darknefs  and  gloom  of  the  ftreet,  where  he 
was  left  to  unavailing  grief  and  remorfe  for  the  offence 
he  had  committed,  and  the  enjoyments  he  had  loft. 

This  man  was  meant  to  be  the  reprefentative  of  thofe 
prefumptuousperfonswho  intrude  themfelves  into  the  Chril^ 
tian  covenant,  and  exped:  to  receive  all  the  privileges  and 
all  the  rewards  annexed  to  it,  without  poffeffing  any  one 
of  thofe  Chriftian  graces  and  virtues  which  the  Gofpel  re- 
quires from  all  thofe  who  profefs  to  believe  and  to  embrace 
it.  Nothing  is  more  common  in  Scripture  than  to  repre- 
fent  the  habits  and  d'lfpofitions  of  tlie  mind,  thofe  which  de- 
termine and  diftinguiih  the  whole  charadler,  under  the 
figure  of  bodily  garments  and  external  habits.  Thus  Job 
fays  of  himfelf,  "  I  put  on  righteoufnefs,  and  it  clothed 
me  ;  my  judgment  was  as  a  cloak  and  a  diadem  J."  And 
again  in  Ifaiah  it  is  faid,  "  He  hath  clothed  me  with  the 
garments  cf  falvation  ;  he  hath  covered  me  with  a  robe 

*  Odyss.  viii.  4C2.     Diod.  Sic.  1.  xiii.  p.  375.  376. 

t  At  the  entertainoient  given  by  the  grand  vizier  to  Lord  Eigia 
and  his  fuite,  in  the  palace  of  the  feraglio,  peliffes  were  given  to  ail 
the  guefts.  \  Job  xxix.  14. 


286  LECTURE     XVIII. 

of  righteoufnefs,  as  a  bridegroom  decketh  himfelf  with 
ornaments,  and  as  a  bride  adorneth  herfelf  with  jewels*.'* 
In  the  fame  manner  we  are  commanded  in  the  Gofpel  to 
put  on  charity,  to  be  clothed  with  humility :  and  in  the  book 
of  Revelationf ,  the  elders  are  defcribed  as  fitting  before 
the  throne  of  God  clothed  in  nvhite  raiment.  And  in  the 
nineteenth  chapter  there  is  a  paffage,  which  is  a  clear  and 
beautiful  illuftration  of  that  now  before  us.  "  The  mar- 
riage of  the  Lamb  is  come  ;  and  to  her  (that  is  to  the 
church)  was  granted,  that  fhe  fhould  be  arrayed  in  fine 
linen,  clean  and  white ;  and  this  finelinen,  we  are  ex- 
prefsly  told,  is  the  righteoufnefs  of  faints.  "  And  he 
laith  unto  me,  Write,  bleifed  are  they  which  are  call, 
ed  to  the  marriage  fupper  of  the  Lamb  ;  that  is  Chrift  the 
kingj.'*  This  is  a  plain  allufion  to  the  parable  before 
us ;  and  moft  evidently  fliows,  that  the  man  without  the 
wedding  garment  is  every  man  that  is  not  clothed  with  the 
robe  of  righteoufnefs  ;  every  man  that  pretends  to  be  a 
Chriftian,  without  pofleffing  the  true  evangelical  temper 
and  difpofition  of  mind,  without  the  virtues  of  a  holy  life ; 
every  one  that  exped:s  to  be  faved  by  Chrill,  yet  regards 
not  the  conditions  on  which  that  falvation  depends  ;  every 
profane,  every  unjuft,  every  dilTolute  man  ;  every  one,  in 
Ihort,  that  prefumes  to  fay,  "  Lord,  Lord,  yet  doeth  not 
the  will  of  his  father  which  is  in  Heaven||.''  All  thefe 
fhall  be  excluded  from  the  marriage  feaft,  from  the  privi- 
leges  of  the  Gofpel,  and  the  joys  of  heaven,  and  fhall  be 
caft  into  outer  darknefs,  there  fhall  be  weeping  and  gnafh- 
ing  of  teeth  ;  for  many,  we  are  told,  are  called,  but  fev/ 
are  chofen  ;  that  is,  many  are  called  upon  and  Invited  to 
embrace  the  Gofpel ;  but  few,  comparatively  fpeaking, 
receive  it,  or  at  leafl  condud  themfelves  in  a  manner  fuit- 
able  to  their  high  and  heavenly  calling,  fo  as  to  be  chofen 
or  deemed  worthy  to  inherit  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

I  have  only  to  obferve  further  on  this  parable,  tliat  al« 
though  in  its  primary  intention  it  relates  folely  to  the  Jews, 
yet  it  has,  like  many  other  of  our  Lord's  parable,s  a  fe- 
condary  reference  to  perfons  of  every  denomination  in  ev- 
ery age  and  nation,  who,  through  indolence,  prejudice, 

*  lia.  Ixi.   lo.  t  Ch.  iv.  4. 

^  Rev.  xix   7,  8,  9,  ||  Match,  vii-  21. 


LECTURE    XVIII.  287 

vanity,  pride,  or  vice,  reject  the  Chriftian  revelation; 
or  who,  profeffing  to  receive  it,  live  in  direft  oppofition  to 
its  do<5lrines  and  its  precepts.  The  fame  future  punilh- 
ment  which  is  denounced  againft  the  unbelieving  or  hypo- 
critical Jews,  will  be  with  equal  feverity  inflided  on  them. 

After  Jefus  had  delivered  this  parable,  the  Pharifees 
perceiving  plainly  that  it  was  directed  againft  them  princi- 
pally, were  highly  incenfed,  and  determined  to  take  their 
revenge,  and  endeavor  to  bring  him  into  difficulty  and 
danger  by  enfnaring  queftions.  "  Then  went  the  Phari- 
fees and  took  counfel  how  they  might  entangle  him  in  his 
talk.  And  they  fent  out  unto  him  their  difciples,  witii 
the  Herodians,  faying,  Mafter,  we  knov/  that  thou  art 
true,  and  teacheft  the  way  of  God  in  truth  ;  neither  careft 
thou  for  any  man,  for  thou  regardeft  not  the  perfon  of 
men.  Tell  us  therefore,  what  thinkeft  thou  ?  Is  it  lawful 
to  give  tribute  unto  Caefar,  or  not  ?  But  Jefus  perceived 
their  wickednefs,  and  faid.  Why  tempt  ye  me,  ye  hypo- 
t:rites  ?  Show  me  the  tribute-money ;  and  they  brought 
unto  him  a  penny.  And  he  faith  unto  them,  whofe  is  this 
image  and  fuperfcription  ?  They  fay  unto  him,  Csefar's, 
Then  faith  he  unto  them.  Render  therefore  unto  Caefar 
the  things  that  are  Csefar's,  and  unto  God  the  things  that 
are  God's.  When  they  heard  thefe  words,  they  marvel- 
led, and  left  him,  and  went  their  v/ay."  In  order  to  un- 
derftand  the  infididious  nature  of  the  queftion  here  propo- 
fed  to  Jefus,  it  muit  be  obferved,  that  the  Jews  were  at 
this  time,  as  they  had  been  for  many  years,  under  the  do- 
minion of  the  Romans  ;  and  as  an  acknowledgment  of 
their  fubjedion,  paid  them  an  annual  tribute  in  money. 
The  Pharifees  however,  were  adverfe  to  the  paym.ent  of 
this  tribute  ;  and  contended,  tliat  being  the  peculiar  peo- 
ple of  God,  and  he  their  only  rightful  fovereign,  they 
ought  not  to  pay  tribute  to  any  foreign  prince  whatever  : 
they  confidered  themfelves  as  fubjedls  cf  the  Almighty, 
and  reieafed  from  all  obedience  to  any  foreign  power. 
There  were  many  others  who  maintained  a  contrary  opin- 
ion, and  it  was  a  queftion  much  agitated  among  different 
parties.  Who  the  Herodians  were  that  accompanied  the 
Pharifees,  and  what  their  fentiments  were  on  this  fubjedl, 
is  very  doubtful :  nor  is  it  a  matter  of  any  moment.     It 


288  LECTURE     XVIII. 

IS  plain  from  their  name  that  they  were  in  fome  way  or 
other  attached  to  Herod ;  and  as  he  was  a  friend  to  the 
Roman  government,  they  probably  maintained  the  pro- 
priety of  paying  the  tribute*. 

In  this  ftate  of  things  both  the  Pharifees  and  Herodians 
came  to  Jefus,  and  after  fome  flattering  and  hypocritical 
compliments  to  his  love  of  truth,  his  intrepidity,  impai> 
tiality,  and  difregard  to  power  and  greatnefs  (calculated 
evidently  to  fpirit  him  up  to  fome  bold  and  offenfive  decla- 
ration of  his  opinion)  they  put  this  queftion  to  him  :  "  Is 
it  lawful  to  give  tribute  to  Casfar,  or  not  ?'*  They  were 
perfuaded,  that  in  anfwering  this  queftion,  he  muft  either 
render  himfelf  odious  to  the  Jewifh  people,  by  oppofmg 
their  popular  notions  of  liberty,  and  appearing  to  pay 
court  to  the  emperor  ;  or,  on  the  other  hand,  give  offence 
to  that  prince,  and  expofe  himfelf  to  the  charge  of  fedi- 
tion  and  difaffedion  to  tlie  Roman  government,  by  deny- 
ing their  right  to  the  tribute  they  had  impofed.  They 
conceived  it  impoffible  for  him  to  extricate  himfelf  from 
this  dilemma,  or  to  efcape  danger  on  one  fide  or  the  other ; 
and  perhaps  no  other  perfon  but  himfelf  could  have  elu- 
ded the  fnare  that  was  laid  for  him.  But  he  did  it  com- 
pletely :  and  fhowed  on  this  occafion,  as  he  had  done  on 
many  others,  that  prefence  of  mind  and  readinefs  of  re- 
ply to  difficult  and  unexpected  queftions,  which  is  one  of 
the  ftrongeft  proofs  of  fuperior  wifdom,  of  a  quick  dif- 
cernment,  and  a  prompt  decifion.  He  purfued,  in  fhort, 
the  method  which  he  had  adopted  in  fimilar  inftances  ;  he 
compelled  the  Jews  in  effefl  to  anfwer  the  queftion  them- 
felves,  and  to  take  from  him  all  the  odium  attending  the 
determination  of  it.  He  perceived  their  wlckednefs,  and 
faid,  **  Why  tempt  ye  me  ?  Why  do  you  try  to  enfnare 
me,  ye  hypocrites  ?  Shew  me  the  tribute-money.  And 
they  brought  unto  him  a  penny  (a  fmall  filver  coin  of  the 
Romans,  called  a  denarius.)  And  he  faid  unto  them, 
whofe  is  this  image  and  fuperfcription  ?  And  they  fay  un- 
to him,  Csefar's."     By  admitting  that  this  v/as  Caefar's 

*  Thofe  whom  St.  Mark  calls  the  Leaysn  of  Herod,  c  viii.  15.  St. 
Matthew  in  the  parallel  paffage,  xvi.  5.  calls  Sadducees.  Hence,  per- 
haps, wc  may  infer,  that  the  Hcrodiane  and  the  Sadducees  were  the 
fame  pcrfons. 


LECTURE     XVIIL  289 

€om,  and  by  confenting  to  receive  it  as  the  current  com  of 
their  country,  tliey  in  fa<5l  acknowledged  their  fubjedion 
to  his  government.  For  the  right  of  coinage,  and  of  if- 
fuing  the  coin,  and  giving  value  and  currency  to  it,  is  one 
of  the  hi*heft  prerogatives,  and  mod  decifive  marks  of 
fovereignty  ;  and  it  was  a  tradition  of  their  own  rabbins, 
tliat  to  admit  the  impreflion  and  the  infcription  of  any 
prince  on  their  current  coin,  was  an  acknowledgment  of 
tlieir  fubjedion  to  him.  And  it  was  more  particularly  fo 
in  the  prefent  inftance,  becaufe  we  are  told  that  the  dena- 
rius paid  by  the  Jews  as  tribute-money  had  an  infcription 
round  the  head  of  Csefar,  to  this  effeft ;  Cafar  Augnfnis^ 
jfudaa  being  fuhdued*.  To  pay  this  coin  with  this  infcrip- 
tion, was  the  completed  acknowledgment  of  fubjeftion, 
and  of  courfe  of  their  obligation  to  pay  the  tribute  de- 
manded of  them,  that  could  be  imagined.  Our  Lord's 
decifion  therefore  was  a  necefFary  confequence  of  their 
own  conceffion.  "  Render  therefore  unto  Ca^far  tlie  things 
which  are  Casfar's,  (which  you  yourfelves  acknowledge  to 
beCaefar's,)  and  unto  God  the  things  that  are  God^s." 
And  when  they  heard  thefe  words,  they  marvelled  ;  they 
were  aftonifhed  at  his  prudence  and  addrefs  ;  and  left  him, 
and  went  their  way. 

But  in  this  anfwer  of  our  Saviour  is  contained  a  much 
ftronger  proof  of  his  ccnfummate  wifdom  and  difcretion 
than  has  yet  been  mentioned.  He  not  only  difengaged 
himfelf  from  the  difficulties  in  which  the  queftion  was 
meant  to  involve  him,  but  without  entering  into  any  polit- 
ical difcuffions,  he  laid  dovm  tv/o  doiflrines  of  the  very 
laft  importance  to  the  peace  and  happinefs  of  mankind, 
and  the  ftabiiity  of  civil  government.  He  made  a  clear 
dillin(5tion  between  the  duties  we  owe  to  God  and  the 
duties  we  owe  to  our  earthly  rulers.  He  fliowed  that 
they  did  not,  in  the  fmalleft  degree,  interfere  or  clafti 
with  each  other  ;  and  that  we  ought  never  to  refufe  v/hat 
is  juftly  due  to  Casfar,  under  pretence  of  its  being  incon- 
fiftent  with  what  we  ov/e  to  our  Maker 

On  the  contrary,  he  lays  down  this  as  a  general  funda- 
mental rule  of  his  religion,  that  we  ought  to  pay  cbedi- 

*  See  Hammond  in  loc, 
W 


g90  LECTURE     XVIIL 

enceto  LAWFUL  AUTHORITY,  and fubiiilt  to  that  acknowl* 
edged  and  eftabliflied  government  under  which  we  live^ 
The  Jews  had  for  a  hundred  .years  acknowledged  their 
iubjeftion,  and  paid  their  tribute  to  the  Roman  govern- 
ment ;  and  our  Lord's  decilion  therefore  was,  "  Render 
unto  Caefar  the  things  that  are  Caefar's."     It  is  true  that 
the  tyrant  Tiberius  was  then  emperor  of  Rome,  but  tiie 
Jews  alledged  no  particular  grievance  or  a6t  of  oppreffion 
to  juftify  their  refufal  of  tribute  ;  and  our  Lord  had  no 
concern  with  any  peculiar  form  of  government.     His  de- 
cifion  would  have  been  the  fame,  had  the  Roman  repub- 
lic then  exifted.     His   doftrine  was  obedience  to  lawful 
authority,  in  whatever  fhape  that  authority  might  be  ex- 
ercifed.     If  it  be  contented  that  there  may  be  extraordi- 
jiary  cafes  of  extreme   and  intolerable  tyranny,    which 
burft  afunder  at  once  the  bonds  of  civil  fubordination,  and 
juftify  refiftance ;  the  anfwer  is,  that  thefe  were  confider- 
ations  into  which  the  divine  founder  of  our  religion  did 
not  think  it  wnfe  or  expedient  to  enter.     He  left  them  to 
be  decided  (as  they  always  m-uft  be)  at  the  moment,  by 
the  preffing  exigencies  and  peculiar  circumftances  of  the 
cafe,  operating  on  the  common  feelings  and  common  fenfe 
of  mankind.     His  great  objeft  was  to  lay  down  one  broad 
fundamental  rule,    which,  confidered  as  a  general   and 
leading  principle,  would  be  moft  conducive  to  the  peace, 
the  comfort,  and  the  fecurity  of  mankind  ;  and  that  rule 
moft  indifputably  is  the  very  doctrine  which  he  inculcated ; 

OBEDIENCE     TO    LAWFUL     AUTHORITY     AND     ESTABLISHED 

.GOVERNMENT.  In  pcrfeft  conformity  to  his  fentiments, 
the  apoftles  held  the  fame  language  after  his  death, 
*«  Submit  yourfelves,  fays  St.  Peter,  to  every  ordinance 
of  man,  for  the  Lord's  Hike  ;  whether  it  be  unto  the  king 
as  fupreme,  or  unto  governors,  as  unto  them  that  are  fent 
by  him,  for  the  punifhment  of  evil  doers,  and  the  praife 
of  them  that  do  well*."  "  Be  fubjecT:  to  principalities 
and  powers,  fays  St.  Paul,  and  obey  magiftrates\.  Ye 
muft  needs  be  fubjed  not  only  for  wrath,  but  alfo  for  con- 
fcience  fakej.  Render  therefore  to  all  their  dues,  tribute 
to  whom  tribute  is  due,  cuftom  to  whom  cuftom,  fear  to 
whom  fear,  honor  to  whom  honorl|." 

*   I   Peter,  ii-   13 — 14,  f  Tit.  ill.   I- 

\  Rom.  xiii.  5.  ||  Rom.  xiii.  7. 


LECTURE     XVIII.  291 

Here  then  we  fee  the  whole  weight  of  the  Gofpel,  and 
^f  its  divine  Author,  thrown  into  the  fcale  of  lawful  au- 
thority. Here  we  fee  that  the  Chriftian  religion  comes  in 
as  a  moll  powerful  auxiHary  to  the  civil  magiftrate,  and 
lends  the  entire  force  of  its  fandtions  to  the  eftablifiied 
government  of  every  country  ;  an  advantage  of  infinite 
importance  to  the  peace  and  welfare  of  fociety.  And 
happy  had  it  been  for  mankind,  if  in  this,  as  in  every  oth- 
er inftance,  they  had  conformed  to  the  dire<ftions  of  the 
Gofpel,  inftead  of  indulging  tlieir  own  wild  projedts  and 
deftruftive  theories  of  reliftance  to  civil  government,  and 
the  fubverfion  of  the  moft  ancient  and  venerable  inftitu- 
tions.  Happy  had  it  been  for  the  Jews  in  particular,  if 
they  had  adopted  our  Saviour's  advice  ;  for  by  afting 
contrary  to  itj  by  breaking  out  as  they  did  fbon  after  into 
open  rebellion  againft  the  Romans,  they  plunged  them- 
felves  into  a  moft  cruel  and  fanguinary  war,  which  ended 
in  the  entire  overthrow  of  their  city,  their  temple,  and 
their  government,  and  the  deftniftion  of  vaft  multitudes 
of  the  people  themfelves.  Similar  calamities,  have,  we 
know,  in  other  countries,  arifen  from  fimilar  caufes  ;  from 
a  contempt  of  all  legitimate  autliority,  and  a  direct  oppo- 
fition  to  thofe  fage  and  falutary  precepts  of  the  Gofpel, 
which  are  no  lefs  calculated  to  preferve  the  peace,  tran- 
quility, fecurity,  and  good  order  of  civil  fociety,  than  to 
promote  the  individual  happinefs  of  every  human  being, 
here  and  for  ever. 

The  Pharifees  having  been  thus  completely  foiled  in 
their  attempt  to  enfnare  and  entangle  our  Saviour  in  his 
talk,  the  next  attempt  made  upon  him  was  by  a  different 
fet  of  men,  the  Sadducees,  who  difbelieved  a  refurredion, 
a  future  ftate,  and  the  exiftence  of  the  foul  after  death. 
And  their  objedt  was  to  fhew  the  abfurdity  and  the  falfe- 
hood  of  thefe  dodrines,  by  Rating  a  difficulty  refpe<51;ing 
them,  which  they  conceived  to  be  infuperable.  The  diffi- 
culty was  this  :  "  The  fame  day  came  to  him  the  Saddu- 
cees, which  fay  that  there  is  no  refurredtion,  and  afked 
him,  faying,  Mafter,  Mofes  faid,  if  a  man  die  having  no 
children,  his  brother  fhall  marry  his  wife,  and  raife  up 
feed  unto  his  brother.  Now  there  were  with  us  feven 
brethren:  and  the  firft,  when  he  had  married  a  wife,  de- 


/292  LECTURE     XVIII. 

ceafed,  and  having  no  ilTue,  left  his  wife  unto  his  brother : 
like  wife  the  fecond  alfo,  and  the  third,  unto  the  feventki 
and  laft  of  all  the  woman  died  alfo  :  therefore  in  the  re- 
furredlion,  whofe  wife  fiiall  {he  be  of  the  feven  ?  for  they 
all  had  her.  Jefus  anfwered  and  faid  unto  them,  ye,  do 
err,  not  knowing  the  fcriptures  nor  tlie  power  of  God  : 
for  In  the  refurrection  they  neither  marry  nor  are  given  in 
marriage,  but  are  as  the  angels  in  hea.ven.  But  as  touch- 
ing the  refurre«5tion  of  the  dead,  have  ye  not  read  that 
which  was  fpoken  unto  you  by  God,  faying,  I  am  the 
God  of  Abraham,  and  the  God  of  Ifaac,  and  the  God 
of  Jacob  !  God  is  not  the  God  of  the  dead,  but  of  the 
living." 

'This  anfwer  of  our  Saviour's  has  by  fome  been  thought 
to  be  obfcure,  and  not  to  go  diredtly  to  the  point  of  prov- 
ing a  refurreftion,  which  tlie  Sadducees  denied,  and  which 
their  obje<5tion  was  meant  to  overthrow.  In  our  Lord's 
reply,  no  argument  feems  to  be  advanced,  nor  any  plain 
text  of  fcripture  produced  to  eftablilh  the  dodLrine  of  a 
refurredllon  of  the  body,  and  its  re-animation  by  the  foul. 
It  is  only  contended,  that  as  God  declares  himfelf  to  be 
the  God  of  Abraham,  Ifaac,  and  Jacob,  the  fouls  of 
thofe  perfons  muft  ftill  be  in  exiftence  in  a  feparate  ftate ; 
becaufe  God  could  not  be  faid  to  be  the  God  of  thofe  who. 
were  no  longer  in  being.  This  Is  undeniable.  But  how 
(it  is  faid)  does  this  prove  a  refurredtion  ?  To  explain  this, 
it  muft  be  obferved,  that  Chrift's  anfwer  confifts  of  two 
parts  :  in  the  firft,  he  folves  the  difficulty  ftarted  by  the 
Sadducees  refpedting  a  refurredion,  by  telling  them  that 
it  arofe  entirely  from  their  not  attending  to  the  power  of 
God,  which  could  effed  with  the  utmoft  eafe  what  to  them 
appeared  ImpolTible ;  and  from  their  ignorance  of  the 
ftate  of  human  beings  in  heaven,  which  refembled  that  of 
angels,  and  required  not  a  conftant  fucceffion  to  be  kept 
up  by  marriage.  The  cafe  therefore  they  had  ftated  ref- 
pedling  the  marriage  of  the  feven  brethren  with  one  wo- 
man was  a  very  unfortunate  one,  becaufe  it  happened  that 
in  heaven  there  v/ould  be  no  fuch  thing  as  marriage  ;  which 
deftroyed  at  once  the  whole  of  that  objedlon  which  they 
deemed  fo  formidable.  In  the  fecond  part  he  completely 
fubverts  the  falfe  principle  on  which  their  disbelief  of  a 


LECTURE     XVHI.  293 

refbrre^tion  and  a  future  (late  was  entirely  founded.  This 
principle  was,  that  the  foul  had  no  feparate  exiflence,  but 
fell  into  nothing  at  the  diflblution  of  its  union  with  the  bo- 
dy. This  we  learn  from  the  Ads  of  the  ^poftles*,  where 
it  is  faid,  "  that  the  Sadducees  believe  neither  angel  nor 
fpirit :"  and  from  Jofephus,  who  tells  us,  that  the  Saddu- 
cees held  that  the  foul  vani/Jjes  (as  he  exprefles  it)  with 
the  body,  and  rejeded  the  do6trine  of  its  duration  after 
deathf .  It  v/as  this  principle  therefore,  which  our  Sav- 
iour undertook  to  overthrow,  which  he  does  effedlually  in 
the  31ft  and  32d  verfes,  by  fliewing  it  to  be  a  clear  infer- 
ence from  the  words  of  fcripture:]:,  that  although  the  bo- 
dies of  Abraham,  Ifaac,  and  Jacob  had  long  been  in 
their  graves,  yet  their  fouls  had  furvived,  and  were  at 
that  moment  in  exillence.  From  hence  it  necelTarily  fol- 
lowed tliat  the  foul  did  not  perifh  with  the  body,  as  the 
Sadducees  believed,  but  that  it  continued  in  being  after 
death  ;  and  at  the  general  refurreclion  would  be  again  uni- 
ted with  the  body,  and  live  for  ever  in  a  future  ftate  of 
happinefs  or  of  raifery. 

But  though  arguments  may  be  confuted,  and  abfurdi- 
tiss  expofed,  the  thorough-paced  caviller  is  noteafily  filen- 
ced.  One  fhould  have  thought  that  the  difgraceful  failure 
of  fo  many  attempts  to  furprize  and  enfnare  Jefus,  would 
have  taught  his  adverfaries  a  little  modefty  and  a  little  pni-  • 
dence  :  but  thefe  are  qualities  with  which  profefTed  difpu- 
ters  and  fophifts  do  not  ufually  much  abound.  When 
therefore,  the  Pharifees  had  heard  that  Jefus  had  put  the 
Sadducees  to  filence,  inftead  of  being  difcouraged  from 
making  any  more  experiments  of  that  nature,  they  luere 
gathered  together,  probably  to  confult  how  they  might  re- 
new their  attacks  upon  him  v/ith  more  fuccefs.  Then  one 
of  them,  which  was  a  lawyer,  aiked  him  a  queftion, 
tempting  him,  and  liiying,  "  Mafter,  which  is  the  great 
commandment  in  the  law  ?  Jefus  faid  unto  him,  thou  fhalt 
love  the  Lord  tliy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all 
thy  foul,  and  with  all  tliy  mind.  This  is  the  firft  and. 
jfreat  commandment.     And  the  fecond  is  like  unto  it. 


t> 


*  Chap,  xxiii.  8. 

f   Sunaphanizei  tois  somasi.  Antiq-   1    sviiz.   C,   2,  p.    793,   Ed.  Huds. 

i  Ex.  iii.  6. 


2^4  LECTURE     XVIII. 

thou  flialt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyfelf.     On  thefe  two 
commandments  hang  all  the  law  and  the  prophets." 

The  queftion  here  propoled  to  Jefus  by  the  lawyer,  ot 
interpreter  of  the  Mofaic  law,  took  its  rife  probably  from 
a  maxim,  which  feems  to  have  been  received  among  the 
Scribes  and  Pharifees  as  a  firft  principle,  namely,  that 
fuch  a  multiplicity  of  precepts  as  the  law  contained  was 
too  great  for  any  one  to  obferve ;  and  therefore  all  that 
could  be  required  was,  that  each  fhould  feled  to  himfelf 
one  or  two  great  and  important  duties,  on  account  of 
which,  if  inviolably  obferved,  his  ti-anfgreffions  in  other 
refpe<5ls  would  be  overlooked.  But  then  immediately 
arofe  a  queftion,  which  luere  thefe  great  and  important 
duties  that  oujifht  to  have  the  preference  to  all  the  reft, 
and  on  which  they  might  fecurely  ground  all  their  merit 
and  all  their  pretences  to  the  favor  of  God.  And  on  this 
pueftion  a  variety  of  fedts  were  formed,  under  their  ref- 
pedive  leaders,  who  difputed  about  the  chief  duty  much  in 
the  fame  manner  as  the  ancient  pagan  philofophers  did 
about  the  chief  good;  and  exadtly  with  the  fame  benefit  to 
tliemfelves  and  to  the  world. 

It  was  with  a  reference  thtTefore  to  thefe  difputes,  which 
were  fo  warmly  agitated  among  the  Pharifees,  that  the 
lawyer  afked  our  Lord,  "  which  was  the  great  command- 
ment of  the  law  ?"  Our  Saviour's  anfwer  was,  "  thou 
(hall  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  ail  thy  heart,  and  with 
all  thy  foul,  and  with  all  thy  mind.  This  is  the  firft  and 
great  commandment."  He  decided  therefore  immediate- 
ly in  fiivor  of  the  moral  law,  and  yet  with  his  ufual  pru- 
dence did  not  neglea  the  ceremonial ;  for  this  very  com- 
mandment of  the  love  of  God  was  written  upon  their  phy- 
lacteries. 

Tliis  then  being  declared  by  our  Saviour  himfelf  to  be 
tliefifl  of  the  commandments,  muft  be  confidered  by  ev- 
ery Chriftian  as  ftanding  at  the  head  of  that  evangelical 
code  of  laws  which  he  is  bound  to  obey,  and  as  entitled 
therefore  to  his  firft  and  higheft  regard.  He  is  to  love  the 
Lord  his  God  "  with  all  his  heart,  v/ith  all  his  foul,  and 
with  all  his  mind  :"  and  the  chief  teft  by  which  the  Gof- 


LECTURE     XVIIL  29^ 

pel  orders  us  to  try  and  meafure  our  love  to  God  is,  the 
regard  we  pay  to  his  commands.  "  He  that  hath  my 
commandments,  and  keepeth  them,  fiiys  our  Lord,  he  it 
IS  that  loveth  me*."  St.  John  in  ftill.  ftronger  terms,  af- 
fures  us,  that  "  whofo  keepeth  God's  word,  in  him  verily 
is  the  love  of  Godi  perfe8ed\.''*  The  love  of  our  Maker  , 
then  is  neither  a  mere  unmeaning  animal  fervor,  nor  a  life- 
lefs  formal  worlhip  or  obedience.  It  confifts  in  devoutnefs' 
of  heart  as  well  as  purity  of  life  ;  and  from  comparing 
together  the  different  pafTages  of  Scripture  relating  to  it, 
we  may  define  it  to  be  fuch  a  reverential  admiration  of 
God's  perfections  in  general,  and  fuch  a  grateful  fenfe  of 
his  infinite  goodnefs  in  particular,  as  render  the  contem- 
plation and  the  worfhip  of  him  delightful  to  us,  and  pro- 
duce in  us  a  conftant  defirc  and  endeavor  to  pleafe  hira  in 
every  part  of  our  moral  and  religious  condudr. 

This  is,  in  a  few  words,  what  the  fcriptures  mean  by 
the  love  of  God,  and  what  our  Lord  here  calls  the  first 
AND  GREAT  COMMANDMENT.  It  is  juftly  fo  Called  for  va- 
rious  reafons  :  becaufe  he  who  is  the  objeft  of  it  is  the  firft 
and  greateft  of  all  beings,  and  therefore  the  duties  owing 
lo  him  muft  have  the  precedence  and  pre-eminence  over 
every  other  ;  becaufe  it  is  the  grand  leading  principle  of 
right  condudl,  the  original  fource  and  fountain  from  which- 
all  Chriftian  graces  flow,  from  whence  the  living  waters 
of  religion  take  their  rife,  and  branch  out  into  all  the  va- 
rious duties  of  human  life ;  becaufe,  in  fine,  it  is,  when 
fervent  and  fmcere,  the  grand  mafterfpring  of  human  con- 
duft  ;  the  only  motive  fufficiently  powerful  to  fubdue  our 
ftrongeft  pafiions,  to  carry  us  triumphantly  through  the 
fevereft  trials,  and  render  us  faperior  to  the  moil  formida- 
ble temptations* 

Next  to  this  in  order  and  in  excellence,  or,  as  our  Sav- 
iour expreffes  it,  Iihe  unto  it,  is,  that  other  divine  commandi 
"  thou  fhalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyfelf." 

By  the  word  neighbor  is  here  to  be  underftood,  every 
man  with  whom  we  have  any  concern ;  every  one  wha 
ftands  in  need  of  our  kindnefs,  and  to  whom  we  are  able 

*  John,  xiv-  ai.  f  i  John,  ii.  $> 


S9e  LECTURE     XVTEL 

to  extend  It  j  which  includes  not  only  our  relations,  friends, 
and  countrymen,  but  even  our  enemies  ;  as  appears  from 
the  parable  of  the  good  Samaritan.  The  precept  tliere- 
fore  requires  us  generally  to  love  our  fellovz-creatures  as- 
we  do  ourfelves* 

To  this  it  has  been  obje^ed  that  the  precept  is  imprac- 
tic  able  and  impoilible.  Self-love,  it  is  contended,  is  a 
paffion  implanted  in  our  breails  by  the  hand  of  God  him- 
felf ;  and  though  fociallove  is  alfo  another  afFe6lion  v/hich 
he  has  given  us,  yet  there  is  no  comparifon  between  the- 
ftrength  of  the  two  principles ;  and  no  man  can  or  does 
love  all  mankind  as  well  as  he  does  himfelf.  It  is  perfect- 
ly true  ;  nor  does  the  precept  before  us  require  it.  The 
words  are  not  thou  flialt  love  thy  neighbor  as  much  as  thy- 
felfy  but  thou  fhalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyfelf ;  that  is,, 
thou  fhalt  entertain  for  him  an  affedion  fimilar  in  klndy 
though  not  equal  in  degree,  to  that  which  thou  entertaineft 
for  thyfelf.  Our  felf-love  prompts  us  to  feek  our  own 
happinefs,  as  far  as  is  confiftent  with  the  duties  we  owe  to 
God  and  to  man.  Our  focial  love  fhould  in  the  fame  man- 
ner prompt  us  to  feek  the  happinefs  of  our  neighbor,  a& 
far  as  is  confident  with  the  duty  we  owe  to  God  and  our- 
felves.  But  in  all  equal  circumftances,  our  love  for  our- 
felves  muft  have  a  priority  in  degree  to  the  love  we  have  for 
our  neighbor.  If,  for  infrance,  my  neighbor  is  in  extreme 
want  of  food,  and  I  am  in  the  fame  want,  I  am  not  bound 
to  give  him  that  food  which  is  indifpenfably  neceffary  for 
my  own  prefervation,  but  that  only  which  is  cpnfiilent 
with  it.  The  rule  in  fliort  can  never  be  miftaken  by  any 
man  of  common  fenfe.  Our  buhnefs  is  to  take  care  to 
carry  it  far  enough :  nature  will  take  fufficient  care  that 
we  do  not  carry  it  too  far.  It  is  in  fa6l  nothing  more  than 
what  we  are  taught  by  another  divine  rule  very  nearly  al- 
lied to  this,  and  which  all  men  allow  to  be  reafonable, 
equitable  and  pradicable  ;  "  whatfoever  ye  would  that 
men  fhould  do  unto  you,  do  ye  even  fo  unto  them*." 

This  is  precifely  what  is  meant  by  loving  our  neighbor 
as  ourfelves  ;  for  when  we  treat  him  exactly  as  we  would 
«xpe(5t  and  hope  to  be  treated  by  him  in  the  iame  circum- 

*  Matth.  vJi,   X?. 


LECTURE    XVnr.  297 

fiances,  we  give  a  clear  and  decifive  proof  that  we  love 
him  as  ourfelves.  And  in  this  there  is  evidently  no  im- 
poffibility,  no  difficulty,  no  obfcurity. 

Thefe  then  are  the  tv^^o  great  commandments,  on  which 
we  are  told  hang  all  the  law  and  the  prophets  ;  that  is,  on 
them,  as  on  its  main  foundation,  refts  the  whole  Mofaic 
difpenfation  ;  for  of  that^  not  of  the  Gofpel,  our  Lord  is 
here  fpeaking.  To  explain,  ePtablilh,  and  confirm  thefe 
two  leading  principles  of  human  duty,  was  one  of  the 
chief  objects  of  the  law  and  the  prophets.  But  it  mull  at 
the  fame  time  be  remembered  (as  I  have  fhewn  at  large  in 
a  formar  ledlure*)  that  great  and  important  as  thefe  Xyno 
precepts  confeiTedly  are,  they  do  by  no  means  conftitute 
the  whole  of  the  ChrijTian  fyjlem.  In  that  we  find  many 
eifential  improvements  of  the  moral  law,  which  was  car- 
ried by  our  Saviour  to  a  much  higher  degree  of  perfection 
than  in  the  Jewilh  difpenfation,  as  may  be  feen  more  par- 
ticularly in  liis  fermon  on  the  mount.  We  find  alfo  in  the 
New  Teftament  all  thofe  important  evangelical  dodtrines 
which  diftinguifh  the  Chriftian  revelation  ;  more  particu- 
larly thofe  of  a  refurredion  ;  of  a  future  day  of  retribution, 
cf  the  expiation  cf  our  fins,  original  and  perfonal,  by  tlie 
facrifice  cf  Chrift,  of  fandtification  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  cf 
jurtification  by  a  tine  and  lively  faith  in  the  merits  of  our 
Redeemer.  If  therefore  we  wiih  to  form  a  juft  and  correct 
idea  of  the  whole  Chriftian  difpenfation,  and  if  we  wiih 
10  be  confidered  as  genuine  difciples  of  our  divine  Mafter, 
we  muft  not  content  ourfelves  with  obferving  only  tlie 
two  leading  commandments  of  love  to  God  and  love  to 
men,  but  we  muft  look  to  the  whole  of  our  religion  as  it 
lies  in  tlie  Gofpel ;  we  muft  endeavor  to  ftand  perfeft  in 
all  the  v/ill  of  God,  and  in  all  the  dodlrines  of  his  Son, 
i'.s  declared  in  the  Chriftian  revelation  ;  and  after  doing  our 
utmoft  to  fulfil  all  righteoufnefs,  and  to  attend  to  every 
branch  of  our  duty,  both  with  refpeift  to  God,  our  neigh- 
bor, and  ourfelves,  we  muft  finally  repofe  all  our  hopes 
of  falvation  on  the  merits  of  our  Redeemer,  and  on  our 
bflief  in  him  as  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life. 

*  Le^ft.  vii-  p.   190, 
W  2 


S^  L  E  C  T  IT  R  E     XVIIL 

I  muft  now  put  a  period  to  thefe  Leftures  for  thfe  pre- 
sent feafon  ;  and  if  it  IHould  pleafe  God  to  perferve  my  life 
for  another  year,  I  hope  to  finiili  my  obfervations  on  the 
gofpel  of  Sf  Matthew ;  beyond  which  I  mull  not  now 
extend  my  views. 

In  the  mean  while,  from  what  1  have  obferved  in  the 
progrefs  of  thefe  Ledlures,  I  cannot  help  indulging  a  hum- 
ble hope  that  they  have  not  been  unattended  with  fome 
falutary  eifecls  upon  your  minds.  But  when,  on  the 
other  hand,  I  confider  that  the  time  of  year  is  now  ap- 
proaching, inwhich  the  gaities  and  amufements  of  this  vaft 
metropolis  are  generally  engaged  in  with  incredible  alac- 
rity and  ardour,  and  multitudes  are  pouring  in  from  every 
part  of  the  kingdom  to  take  their  fhare  in  them ;  and 
when  I  reccolled  further,  that  at  this  very  period  in  the 
laft  year  a  degree  of  extravagance  and  wildnefs  in  pleas- 
ure took  place,  which  gave  pain  to  every  ferious  mind, 
and  was  almoft  unexampled  in  any  former  times  ;  I  am 
not,  I  confefs,  without  fome  apprehenfions,  that  the  fame 
fcene  of  levity  and  diffipation  may  again  recur  ;  and  that 
fome  of  thofe  who  now  hear  me  (of  the  younger  part  more 
efpecially)  may  be  drawn  too  far  into  this  fafhionable 
vortex,  and  loofe  in  that  giddy  tumult  of  diverfion  all 
remembrance  of  what  has  pafled  in  this  facred  place.  I 
muft  therefore  mod  eameftly  caution  them  againft  thefe 
fafcinating  allurements,  and  recommend  to  them  that 
moderation,  that  temperance,  that  modefty  in  amufements, 
which  their  Chriftian  profeffion  at  all  times  requires  ;  but 
for  which  at  this  moment  there  are  reafons  of  peculiar 
weight  and  force*. 

To  indulge  ourfelves  in  endlefs  gaieties  and  expenlive 
luxuries,  at  a  time  when  fo  many  of  our  poorer  brethren 
are,  from  the  heavy  preffure  of  unfavorable  circumftan- 
ces,  in  want  of  the  moft  eflential  neceffaries  of  life,  would 
furely  manifefl  a  very  unfeeling  and  unchriftian  difpofition 
in  ourfelves,  and  would  he  a  moft  cruel  and  wanton  aggra- 
vation of  their  fuflPerings. 

*  This  Lc6l:ure  was  given  in  April  1 800,  a  time  of  great  fcarcity 
and  extreme  dearncfs  of  all  the  neceffaries  of  life. 


LECTURE    XVIIL  29^ 

It  is  true  indeed  that  their  wants  have  hitherto  been 
relieved  with  a  liberality  and  kindnefs,  which  reflect  the 
higheft  honor  on  thofe  who  exercifed  them.  But  the  evil 
in  queftion  ftill  fubfifts  in  its  full  force,  and  is,  I  fear, 
more  likely  to  increafe  than  to  abate  for  months  to  come, 
and  will  of  courfe  require  unceafmg  exertions  of  benevo- 
lence and  repeated  adls  of  charity  on  our  part,  to  alleviate 
and  mitigate  its  baneful  efiecls. 

Every  one  ought  therefore  to  provide  as  ample  a  fund 
as  pofllble  for  this  purpofe  ;  and  how  can  this  be  better 
provided  than  by  a  retrenchment  of  our  expenfive  diver- 
fions,  our  fplended  affemblies,  and  luxurious  entertain- 
ments ?  We  are  not  noiv  required,  as  the  young  ruler  in 
the  Gofpel  was,  to  fell  all  we  have  and  give  to  the  poor  ; 
but  we  are  required,  efpecially  in  times  fuch  as  thefe,  to 
cut  off  all  idle  and  needlefs  articles  of  profufion,  that  we 
"  may.  have  to  give  to  him  that  needeth." 

And  when  we  confider  that  the  expence  of  a  Ungle 
evening's  amufement,  or  a  fmgle  convivial  meeting,  would 
give  fupport  and  comfort  perhaps  to  twenty  wretched 
families,  pining  in  hunger,  in  ficknefs,  and  in  forrow, 
can  we  fo  far  diveft  ourfelves  of  all  the  tender  feelings  of 
our  nature  (not  to  mention  any  higher  principle),  can  we 
be  fo  intolerably  felfifii,  fo  weded  to  pieafure,  fo  devoted 
to  our  own  gratification,  as  to  let  the  lowefl  of  our  breth- 
ren perilh,  while  we  are  folacing  ourfelves  with  every 
earthly  delight  ?  No  one  that  gives  himfelf  leaf  to  reileft 
for  a  moment  can  think  this  to  be  right,  can  maintain  it 
to  be  confiflent  with  his  duty  either  to  God  or  man.  And, 
even  in  refpedt  to  the  very  objedl  we  fo  eagerly  purfue, 
and  are  fo  anxious  to  obtain,  in  point  even  of  pieafure,  I 
mean,  and  felf-gratification,  I  doubt  much  whether  the 
giddieil  votary  of  amufement  can  receive  half  the  real 
fatisfadlion  from  the  gayeft  fcenes  of  diffipation  he  is  im- 
merfed  in,  that  he  would  experience  (if  he  would  but 
try)  from  refcuing  a  fellow-creature  from  deflrudtion, 
and  lighting  up  an  affli6ted  and  fallen  countenance  with  joy. 

Let  us  tlien  abridge  ourfelves  of  a  few  indulgences,  and 
give  the  price  of  what  they  v/ould  cod  us  to  thofe   who 


SOO  LECTURE    XVIIL 

have  none.  By  this  laudable  fpecies  of  ceconomy,  we 
ihall  at  once  improve  ourfelves  in  a  habit  of  felf-denial  and 
felf-goverament ;  we  fliall  demonftrate  the  fmcerity  of  our 
love  to  our  fellow-creatures,  by  giving  up  fomething  that  is 
dear  to  us  for  their  fake,  by  facrificing  our  pleafures  to 
their  neceflities  ;  and  above  all  we  fliall  approve  ourfelves 
as  faithful  fervants  in  the  fight  of  our  Almighty 
Sovereign ;  we  Ihall  give  ibme  proof  of  our  gratitude  to 
our  Heavenly  Benefador  and  Friend,  who  has  given  us 
richly  all  things  to  enjoy ;  and  who,  in  return  for  that 
bounty,  expedts  and  commands  us  to  be  rich  in  good 
works,  to  feed  the  hungry,  to  clothe  the  naked,  to  com- 
fort the  fick,  to  vifit  tlie  fatlierlefs  and  widow  in  their  afflic- 
tion, and  to  keep  ourfelves  unfpotted  from  the  world> 
unpolluted  by  its  vices,  and  uiifubdued  by  its  predominant 
vanities  and  follies. 


->«■•<•■<•■<■•■<■.<••<■•<•<•<••■<•<••■<••<•■<••<■•<••<■•<  •<-<-o->.->^»->->-»->->- >->•>->•>••>«>•  >->•>■>••>•• 


LECTURE     XIX. 


MATTHEW  xHv. 


HIS  courfe  of  LeSures  for  the  prefent  year 
will  begin  with  the  twenty-fourth  chapter  of  St.  Matthew  ; 
which  contains  one  of  the  cleareft  and  moft  important 
prophecies  that  is  to  be  found  in  the  facred  writings. 

The  prophecy  is  that  which  our  blefled  Lord  delivered 
refpeding  the  deftruction  of  Jenifalem,  to  which,  I 
apprehend,  the  whole  of  the  chapter,  in  its  primary 
acceptation,  relates.  At  the  fame  time  it  muft  be  admit- 
ted, that  the  forms  of  expreffion,  and  the  images  made 
ufe  of,  are  for  the  moft  part  applicable  olfo  to  the  day  of 
judgment ;  and  that  an  allufion  to  that  great  event,  as  a 
kind  of  fecondary  obje6l,  runs  through  ahnoft  every  part 
of  the  prophecy.  This  is  a  very  common  pradice  in  the 
prophetic  writings,  where  two  fubje«fi:s  are  frequently  car- 
ried on  together,  a  principal  and  a  fubordinate  one.  In 
Ifaiah  there  are  no  lefs  than  three  liibjefts,  the  relloration 
of  the  Jews  from  the  Babylonifh  captivity,  the  call  of  the 
Gentiles  to  the  Chriftian  covenant,  and  the  redemption  of 
mankind  by  the  MciTiah,  which  are  frequently  adumbrated 
under  the  fame  figures  and  images,  and  are  fo  blended 
and  interwoven  together,  that  it  is  extremely  difficult  to 
feparate  them  from  each  other*.  In  tlie  fame  manner  our 
Saviour,  in  the  chapter  before  us,  feems  to  hold  out  the 
deftrudion  of  Jerufalem,  which  is  his  principal  fiibjeft,  as 
a  type  of  the  diflblution  of  the  world,  which  is  tlie  under- 
part  of  the  reprefentatlon.  By  dins  judicioufly  minglirjg 
together  thefe  two  important  cataftrophes,  he  gives  at  the 
fame  time  (as  he  does  in  many  ether  inftances)  a  moft 
interefting  admonition  to  his  immediate  hearers  the  Jews, 
and  a  moft  awful  lefibn  to  all  his  future  difciples ;  and  xhe 

*  JBilhop  Lowthon  Ifaiah.  Hi  13. 


S0^2  LECTURE     XlX. 

benefit  of  his  predi(5tions,  inftead  of  being  confined  to  one 
occafion,  or  to  one  people,  is  by  this  admirable  manage- 
ment extended  to  every  fubfequent  period  of  time,  and 
to  the  whole  Chriftian  world. 

After  this  general  remark,  which  is  a  fort  of  key  to  the 
whole  prophecy,  and  will  afford  an  eafy  folution  to 
feveral  difficulties  that  occur  in  it,  1  fhall  proceed  to  con- 
lider  diftinftly  the  moil  material  parts  of  it. 

We  are  told  in  the  firft  verfe  of  this  chapter,  that  "  on 
our  Saviour's  departing  from  the  temple  his  difciples 
came  to  him,  to  fhew  him  the  buildings  of  it  ;^'  that  is, 
to  draw  his  attention  to  the  magnitude,  the  fplendour,  the 
apparent  folidity  and  ftability  of  that  magnificent  ftruc- 
ture.  It  is  obfervable  that  they  advert  particularly  to  the 
Jiones  of  which  it  was  compolTed.  In  St.  Mark  their  ex- 
preflion  is,  "  See  what  manner  of  Jiones,  and  what  buil- 
dings are  here  ;"  and  in  St.  Luke  they  fpeak  of  the 
goodly  Jiones  and  gifts  with  which  it  was  adorned.  This 
feems  at  the  firll  view  a  circumftance  of  little  importance  ; 
but  it  (hows  in  a  very  ftrong  light  with  v/hat  perfect  fidel- 
ity and  minute  accuracy  every  thing  is  difcribed  in  the  fa- 
cred  writings.  For  it  appears  from  the  hiftorian  Jofephus, 
that  there  was  fcarce  any  thing  more  remarkable  in  this 
celebrated  temple  than  the  ftupendous  fize  of  the  ftones 
with  which  it  was  conftrucled.  Thofe  employed  in  the 
foundations  were  forty  cubits,  that  is  above  fixty  feet,  in 
length  ;  and  the  fuperftrudture,  as  the  fame  hillorian  ob- 
ferves,  was  worthy  of  fucli  foundations,  for  there  were 
flones  in  it  of  the  whiteft  marble,  upwards  of  fixty-feven 
feet  long,  more  than  feven  feet  high,  and  nine  broad*. 

It  was  therefore  not  without  reafon  that  the  difciples 
particularly  noticed  the  uncommon  magnitude  of  the  ftones 
of  this  fuperb  temple,  from  which,  and  from  the  general 
folidity  and  ftrength  of  the  building,  they  probably  flat- 
tered themfelves,  and  meant  to  infinuate  to  their  divine 
Mailer,  that  tliis  unrivalled  edifice  was  built  for  eternity, 
was  formed  to  ftand  the  ftiock  of  ages,  and  to  refift  the  ut- 
moft  eiforts  of  human  power  to  deftroy  it.  How  aftoniflied 

•  Jofephus  de  Bell.  Jud.  1-  x.  c.  5. 


LECTURE    XI3^.  305 

then  and  difmayed  muft  they  have  been  at  our  Saviour's 
anfwer  to  thefe  triumphant  obfervations  of  theirs  !  Jefus 
faid  unto  them,  "  See  ye  not  all  thofe  things  ?  Verily  I  fay 
unto  you,  tliere  fhall  not  be  left  here  onejlone  upon  another 
that  fhall  not  be  thrown  downi."  This  is  a  proverbial  ex- 
preffion,  ufed  on  oth^r  occafions  to  denote  enlire  ilejlruc- 
tion  ;  and  therefore  had  the  temple  been  reduced  to  ruins 
in  the  lifual  way,  the  prophecy  would  have  been  fully 
accomplilhed.  But  it  fo  happened  that  this  prediction 
was  almoft  literally  fulfilled,  and  that  in  reality  fcarce  one 
ftone  was  left  upon  another.  For  when  the  Romans  had 
taken  Jerufalem,  Titus  ordered  his  foldiers  to  dig  up  the 
foundations  both  of  the  city  and  the  temple*.  The  Jew- 
ifh  writers  alfo  themfelves  acknowledge,  that  Terentius 
Rufus,  who  was  left  to  command  the  army,  did  with  a 
plough-fhare  tear  up  the  foundations  of  the  templef  ; 
and  thereby  fulfilled  that  prophecy  of  Micah±.  "  Therefore 
fhall  Zion  for  your  fake  be  ploughed  as  a  field."  And  in 
confirmation  of  this  remarkable  circumflance,  Eufebius 
alfo  afTures  us,  that  the  temple  was  ploughed  up  b)^  the 
Romans  ;  arid  that  he  himfelf  faw  it  lying  in  ruins^. 
The  evangelift  next  informs  us,  that  as  Jefas  fat  on  the 
mount  of  Olives,  which  was  exa(5lly  oppofite  to  the  hill 
on  which  the  temple  was  built,  and  commanded  a  very 
fine  view  of  it  from  the  eaft,  his  difciples  came  unto  him 
privately,  faying,  "  Tell  us  when  ihall  thefe  things  be, 
and  what  fhall  be  the  fign  of  thy  coming,  and  of  the  end 
of  the  world."  The  expreflions  here  made  ufe  of,  the  fign 
of  thy  comingj  and  the  end  of  the  ivorldy  at  the  fi*rft  view 
naturally  lead  our  thoughts  to  the  coming  of  Chrlft  at  the 
day  of  judgment,  and  the  final  ciefblution  of  this  earthly 
globe.  But  a  dew  attention  to  tlie  parallel  pafTages  in  St^ 
Mark  and  St.  Luke,  and  a  critical  examination  into  the 
real  import  of  thofe  two  phrafes  in  various  parts  of  Scrip- 
ture, will  foon  convince  a  careful  inquirer,  tliat  by  the 
coming  of  Chrlft  is  here  meant,  not  his  comiag  to  judge  the 
world  at  the  laft  day,  but  his  coming  to  execute  judgment 
upon  Jerufalcm^l  ;  and  that  by  /i-  end  of  the  ivjrld  is  to 

*  Jof.  de  Bcllo  Jud.  1.  vil  c-  I.  p.   170.    B. 
f  See  Whitby  in  Lcc. 
\  Chap.  ill.   I  a. 

§  Eufeb.  Dem.   Evang.  1.  vi.  13. 

^  See  Mark  xiii,  4.     Luke  xxi.  7,     Matth    xxiv.  4,  5  ;  xvi.  a8. 
John  xxi  az. 


304j  I.  E  C  T  U  R  £    XIX. 

"be  underftood,  not  the  final  confummation  of  all  things 
here  below,  but  the  end  of  thai  ag£,  the  end  of  the  Jewifb 
ftate  and  polity ;  the  fubveriion  of  their  city,  temple,  an4 
government*. 

The  real  queliions  therefore  here  put  to  our  Lord  by  tlier 
difciples  were  thefe  two : 

1ft.  At  what  time  the  deftru^lion  of  Jerufalem  was 
to  take  place  :  "  Tell  us,  when  fhall  thefe  things  be  ?'* 

2dly.  What  the  figns  were  that  were  to  precede  it  v 
«  What  ftiallbe  the  fign  of  thy  coming  ?" 

Our  Lord  in  his  anfwer  begins  firft  with  the  ftgns,  oi 
which  he  treats  from  the  4<th  to  the  Sift  verfe,    inclufive. 

The  fir  ft  of  thefe  figns  is  fpecified  in  the  5th  verfe, 
"  Many  fiiall  come  in  my  name,  faying,  I  am  Chrift,  and 
•ftiall  deceive  many." 

This  part  of  the  prophecy  began  foon  to  be  fulfilled ; 
for  we  learn  from  the  ancient  writers,  and  particularly  from 
Jofephus,  that  not  long  after  our  Lord's  afcenfion  feveral 
impoftors  appeared,  fome  pretending  to  be  the  Meffiah, 
and  others  to  foretel  future  events.  The  firft  were  thofe 
whom  our  Lord  here  faysj/Z»o«/J  come  in  his  name,  and  were 
therefore  falfe  Chrifls,  The  others  are  alluded  to  in  the 
eleventh  verfe,  under  the  name  of  falfe  prophets  :  "  Many 
falfe  prophets  faall  arife,  and  fliall  deceive  many."  Of 
the  firft  fcrt  Vv-ere,  asOrigen  informs  usf ,  oneDofitheus,  who 
faid  that  he  was  the  Chrift  foretold  by  Mofes  ;  and  Simon 
Magus,  who  iiiid  he  appeard  among  the  Jews  as  the  Son 
of  God.     Befides  feveral  others  alluded  to  by  Jofephus$* 

The  fame  hiftorian  tells  us,  that  there  v/ere  many  falf- 
prophets,  particularly  an  Egyptian,  who  coUedled  together 

*  The  %vovdaio/j  (here  tranflated  the  world)  frequently  means  noth- 
ing more  than  an  age.  ^  certain  definite  period  of  time.  See  Matth. 
xxiv.  6.  14-  Mark  xlii.  7,  Luke  xxi.  9,  compared  vvith  ver.  *:;.• 
Hebrews  ix.  a6. 

f  bricjen  ;  Adv.  Cels.  1.  1  and  6. 

i  De  Bell.  Jud.  I  i.  p.  705. 


LECTURE     XIX.  30^ 

above  thirty  thoufand  Jews,  whom  he  had  deceived*,  and 
Theudas  a  magician,  who  faid  he  was  a  prophet,  and  de- 
ceived many ;  and  a  multitude  of  others,  who  deluded 
the  people  even  to  the  laft,  with  a  promife  of  help  from 
God.  And  in  the  reign  of  Nero,  when  Felix  was  pro- 
curator of  Judaea,  fuch  a  number  of  diefe  impoftors  made 
their  appearance,  that  many  of  them  were  feized  and  put 
to  death  every  dayf . 

The  next  figns  pointed  out  by  our  Lord  are  tliefe  that 
follow.  "  Ye  fhall  hear  of  wars  and  rumours  of  wars  ; 
fee  that  ye  be  not  troubled  ;  for  all  thefe  things  muft 
come  to  pafs,  but  the  end  is  not  yet :  for  nation  fhall  rife 
againft  nation,  and  kingdom  againft  kingdom  ;  and  there 
fhall  be  famines  and  peftilences,  and  earthquakes  in  divers 
places :  all  thefe  are  the  beginning  of  forrows." 

That  there  were  in  reality  great  dillurbences  and  com- 
motions in  thofe  times,  that  there  were  not  only  rumours  of 
wars,  but  vv^ars  actually  exifting,  and  continued  diffentions, 
infurredions,  and  maffacres  among  the  Jews,  and  other 
nations  who  dwelt  in  the  fame  cities  with  them,  is  fo  fully  at- 
tefted  by  all  the  hiftorians  of  that  period,  but  more  particu- 
larly by  Jofephus,  that  to  produce  all  the  dreadful  events 
of  that  kind  which  he  enumerates,  would  be  to  tranfcribe 
a  great  part  of  his  hiftory.  It  is  equally  certain,  from  the 
teftimony  of  the  fame  author,  as  well  as  from  Eufebius, 
and  feveral  profane  hiftorians,  that  there  were  famines, 
and  peftilences,  and  earthquakes  in  divers  places.  It  is 
added  in  the  parallel  place  by  St.  Luke:j:,  "  that  fearful 
fights  and  great  figns  Ihall  there  be  from  heaven."  And- 
accordingly  Jofephus,  in  the  preface  to  his  hiftory  of  the 
Jewifh  war,  and  in  the  hiftory  itfelf,  enumerates  a  great 
variety  of  aftoniftiing  figns  and  prodigies,  which  he  fays 
preceded  the  calamities  that  impended  over  the  Jews,  and 
which  he  exprefsly  affirms,  in  perfed:  conformity  to  our 
Saviour's  prediftion,  v/ere  figns  manifeftly  intended  to 
forebode    their   approaching    deftru<5tion^".      And    thefe 

*  Jof.  Antiq.  1,  ao.  c.  6.  and  c.  4.  f.  i.  Ed.  Huds. 
f  lb.  c.  7.  f.  5.  p.   89Z.  t  Luke  xxi.  11. 

§  Jof.  Proem.    fe<5l.  ii.  p.  957.     De  Bell.  Jud.    1.  vi.  c.  5-  C  3.  p. 
xa8i-8z.  &  1.  7.  c.  30, 


506  LECTURE    XIX; 

accounts  are  confirmed  by  the  Roman  hiftorian  Tacitus^ 
who  fays  that  many  prodigies  happened  at  that  time ; 
armies  appeared  to  be  engaging  in  the  fky,  arms  were  feen 
glittering  in  the  air,  the  temple  was  illuminated  with  flames 
iiTuing  from  the  clouds,  the  doors  of  the  temple  ftiddenljr 
burft  open,  and  a  voice  more  than  human  was  heard, 
**  that  the  gods  were  departing  ;'*  and  foon  after  a  great 
motion,  as  if  they  loere  departing*. 

The  fign  next  fpecified  by  our  Saviour  in  the  ninth  and 
the  four  following  verfes,  relates  to  the  difciples  themfelves» 
"  Then  Ihall  they  deliver  you  up  to  be  aiflided,  and  fhall 
kill  you,  and  ye  fhall  be  hated  of  all  nations  for  my  name's 
fake."  The  parallel  paflages  in  St.  Luke  and  St.  Mark 
are  ftill  ftronger,  and  more  particular.  St.  Mark  fays, 
they  fhall  deliver  you  up  to  the  councils ,;  and  in  the  fyna- 
gogues  ye  fhall  be  beaten  ;  and  ye  fhall  be  brought  before 
rulers  and  kings  for  my  fake,  for  a  teftimony  againft 
themf ."  St.  Luke's  words  are,  "  They  fhall  lay  their  hands 
on  you,  and  perfecute  you,  delivering  you  up  to  the 
fynagogues,  and  into  prifons,  being  brought  before  kings 
and  rulers  for  my  name's  fake:):."  That  every  circum- 
Ilance  here  mentioned  was  minutely  and  exa<5lly  verified  in 
the  fufferings  of  the  apoftles  and  difciples  after  our  Lord's 
deceafe,  muft  be  perfectly  well  known  to  everyone  that  has 
read  the  Ads  of  the  Apoftles.  You  will  there  fee  that  the 
lives  of  the  apoflles  were  one  continued  fcene  of  perfecution, 
afflidion,  and  diftrefs  of  every  kind  ;  that  they  were  impri- 
ioned,  were  beaten,  were  brought  before  councils,  and 
fanhedrims,  and  kings  ;  were  many  of  them  put  to  deatli, 
and  were  hated  of  all  nations,  by  the  heathens  as  well  as 
by  the  Jev/s,  for  the  fake  of  Chrift  ;  that  is,  for  being  call- 
ed by  his  name.  The  very  name  of  a  Chriflian  was  a  crime ; 
and  it  expofed.them  to  every  fpecies  of  infult,  indignity, 
and  cruelty. 

To  all  thefe  calamities  was  to  be  added  another,  which 
we  find,  in  the  tenth  verfej  ** Then  fliall  many  be  offended, 
and  fliall  betray  one  another,  and  fhall  hate  one  another." 
The  meaning  is,  that  many  Chriftians,  terrified  with  thefe 


Tacitus,  1.  V.  p.  <x$-     Ed.  Lips. 
Mark  xiii.  9.      "      "f  Luke  xxi. 


LECTURE    XIX.  307 

perfecutions,  fhall  become  apoftates  from  their  religion, 
and  renounce  their  faith  ;  for  that  is  the  meaning  general- 
ly of  the  word  offend  in  the  New  Teftament.  That  this 
.would  fometimes  happen  under  fuch  trials  and  calamities 
as.  the  firft  Chriftians  were  expofed  to,  we  may  eafily  be- 
lieve, and  St.  Paul  particularly  mentions  a  few  who  turned 
away  from  him,  and  forfook  him  ;  namely,  Phygellus, 
Hermogenes,  and  Demas*.  The  other  circumftance 
here  predi<5led,  "  that  the  difcipks  fhould  betray  one 
another,"  is  remarkably  verified  by  the  teftimony  of  the 
Roman  hiftorian  Tacitus,  who,  in  difcribing  the  perfecu- 
tion  under  Nero,  tells  us,  "  that  feveral  Chriftians  were  at 
firft  apprehended,  and  then,  hy  their  difcovery,  a  multi- 
tude of  others,  were  convifted,  and  cruelly  put  to  deatli, 
with  derifion  and  infultf . 

It  is  a  natural  confequence  of  all  this,  that  the  ardor  of 
many  in  embracing  and  profefling  Chriftianity  fliould  be 
confiderably  abated,  or,  as  it  is  expreifed  in  the  twelfth 
verfe,  that  the  love  of  many  JJooidd  <ivax  cold ;  and  of  ihis 
we  find  feveral  inftances  mentioned  by  the  facred  writers  J, 

"  But  he  that  fhall  endure  unto  the  end  (adds  our  Lord 
in  the  thirteenth  verfe)  the  fame  fhall  be  faved."  He 
that  fhall  not  be  difmayed  by  thefe  perfecutions,  but  fliall 
continue  firm  in  his  faith  and  unfhaken  in  his  duty  to  the 
iaft,  fhall  be  faved,  both  in  this  world  and  the  next.  It 
is,  we  know,  the  uniform  dodrine  of  fcripture,  that  they 
who  perfevere  in  the  belief  and  the  practice  of  Chriftianity 
to  the  end  of  their  lives,  fliall,  through  the  merits  of  their 
Redeemer,  be  rewarded  with  everlafting  life.  And  with 
refpedl  to  the  prefent  life,  and  the  times  to  v;rhich  our 
Saviour  here  alludes,  it  is  remarkable,  that  none  of  his 
difciples  were  known  to  perifh  in  the  fiege  and  deftni<5lion 
of  Jerufalem. 

Another  fign  which  was  to  precede  the  demolition  of 
the  temple  and  the  city  of  Jerufalem  was,  that  the  Chrif- 
tian  religion  was  firft  to  be  propagated  over  the  greater 
part  of  the  Roman  empire,  which  in  fcripture,  as  well  as 
by  the  Roman  writers,  was  called  the  ivorld,     "  This  gof- 

*  %  Tim.  i.  1$.  iv.  10.  I  Tac.  Afin.  I  1$. 

\  a  Tim.  iv.  i6.     H«b,  x.  55. 


30S  LECTURE    XIX. 

pel  of  the  kingdom  fhall  be  preached  in  ail  the  world,  for 
a  witnefs  unto  all  nations ;  and  then  fhall  the  end  come." 
Then  fliall  come  what  is  called  in  the  third  verfe  the  end  of 
the  nvorld;  that  is,  the  Jeivl/h  world,  the  Jewifli  Hate  and 


And  accordingly  St.  Paul,  in  his  Epiftle  to  the  Colof- 
fians,  fpeaks  of  the  Gofpel  "  being  come  unto  all  the 
world,  and  preached  to  every  creature  under  heaven*." 
And  we  learn  from  the  moft  authentic  writers,  and  the 
mod  ancient  records,  that  the  Gofpel  was  preached  within 
thirty  years  after  the  death  of  Chrift,  in  Idumasa,  Syria, 
and  Mefopotamia ;  in  Media  and  Parthia,  and  many 
parts  of  Afia  Minor ;  in  Egypt,  Mauretania,  Etliiopia, 
-and  other  regions  of  affrica  ;  in  Greece  and  Italy  ;  as  far 
north  as  Scythia,  and  as  far  weftward  as  Spain,  and  in 
this  very  ifland  which  we  inhabit ;  where  there  is  great 
reafon  to  believe  Chriftianity  was  planted  in  the  days  of 
the  apoftles,  and  before  the  deftru6lion  of  Jerufalem. 
And  this,  it  is  faid,  was  to  be  "  for  a  teftimony  againft 
them  ;"  that  is,  againft  the  Jews  ;  for  a  teftimony  that 
the  offer  of  falvation  was  made  to  them  in  every  part  of 
the  world  where  they  were  difperfed  ;  and  that,  by  their 
obftinate  rejeftion  of  it,  they  had  merited  the  fmgal  pun- 
ifliment  which  foon  after  overtook  them. 

Our  Lord  then  goes  on  to  ftill  more  alarming  and  more 
evident  indications  of  the  near  apprbach  of  danger  to  the 
Jewifh  nation.  "  When  ye  therefore  fliall  fee  the  abomi- 
nation of  defolation  fpoken  of  by  Daniel  the  prophet*. 
Rand  in  the  holy  place  (let  him  that  readeth  underftand) ; 
then  let  them  that  be  in  Judaea  flee  into  the  mountain." 
The  meaning  of  this  pafTage  is  clearly  and  fully  explained 
by  the  parallel  place  in  St.  Luke  :  "  when  ye  fliall  fee 
Jerufalem  compafTed  with  armies,  then  know  that  the 
defolation  thereof  is  nigh."  The  abomination  of  defolation 
therefore  denotes  the  Roman  army  ■  which  befieged  Jenifa- 
lem,  and  which  Daniel  alfo,  in  the  place  alluded  to,  calls 
the  abomination  avhicL  makes  defolate. 

*  Col.  i.  6.  as-  t  Chap.  ix.  a;. 


LECTURE     XIX.  309^ 

The  Roman  army  is  here  called  an  abomination^  becaufe 
upon  their  ftandards  were  depi<5ted  the  images  of  their 
emperor  and  their  tutelary  gods,  whom  they  wor^ipped  r 
and  it  is  well  known  that  idols  were  held  by  the  Jews  in. 
the  utmofl  abhorrence ;  and  the  very  name  they  gave 
them  was  the  expreffion  here  made  ufe  of,  an  abomination^ 
The  word  defolation  is  added  for  an  obvious  reafon,  be- 
caufe  this  mighty  army  brought  ruin  and  defolation  upoa. 
Jerufalem, 

This  city  and  the  mountain  on  which  it  flood,  and  a; 
circuit  of  feveral  furlongs  around  it,  vrere  accounted  holy 
ground ;  and  as  the  Roman  ftandards  were  planted  in  the 
mofl  confpicuous  places  near  the  fortifications  of  the 
city,  they  are  here  faid  to  ftand  in  the  holyplace^  or,  as  St. 
Mark  exprefTesit,  "  to  ftand  where  th«?7  ought  not."  And- 
Jofephus  tells  us,  that  after  the  city  was  taken,  "  tlie 
Romans  brought  their  enligns  into  the  temple,  and  placed 
one  of  them  againft  the  eaftem  gate,  and  facrificed  to 
them  there ;  which  was  the  greateft  infult  and  outrage 
that  could  pofHbly  be  offered  to  that  wretched  people*." 

When  therefore  this  defolating  abomination,  this  idola- 
trous and  deftrudive  army  appeared  before  the  holy  city, 
"  then,  fays  our  Lord,  let  them  which  be  in  Judea  flee  into 
the  m.ountains  ;  let  him  which  is  on  the  houfe  top  not  come 
down  to  take  any  thing  out  of  his  houfe,  neither  let  him 
that  is  in  the  fields  return  back  to  take  his  clothes."  Thefe 
are  allufions  to  Jewiih  cuftoms,  and  are  defigned  to  imprefs 
upon  the  difciples  the  necefTity  of  immediate  flight,  not 
fufFering  themfelves  to  be  delayed  by  turning  back  for  any 
accommodations  they  might  wilh  for.  "  And  woe  unto 
them  that  are  with  child,  and  to  thofe  that  give  fuck  in 
thofe  days  !  And  pray  ye  that  your  flight  be  not  in  the 
winter,  neither  on  the  jfabbath-day  :"  that  is,  unfortunate 
V7ill  be  it  for  thofe  who,  in  fuch  a  time  of  terror  and  diftrefs, 
fhall  have  any  natural  impediments  to  obftruft  their  flight, 
and  who  are  obliged  to  travel  in  the  winter  feafon,  when 
the  weather  is  fevere,  the  roads  rough,  and  the  days  fhort ; 
or  on  the  fabbath-day,  when  the  Jews  fancied  it  unlawful 
to  travel  more  than  a  mile  or  two.     Thefe  kind  admoni- 

*  De  Bell  Jud.  1,  vi.  c-  6-  f.  1  p.  nSj. 


310  LECTURE     XIX. 

tions  were  not  loft  upon  the  difciples.  For  we  learn  from 
the  beft  ecclefiaftical  hiftorians,  that  when  the  Roman 
armies  approached  to  Jerufalem,  all  the  Chrlftians  left  that 
devoted  city,  and  fled  to  Pella,  a  mountainous  country, 
and  to  other  places  beyond  the  river  Jordan.  And  Jofe- 
phus  alfo  informs  us,  that  when  Vefpafian  was  drawing- 
his  forces  towards  Jerufalem,  a  great  multitude  fled  from 
Jericho  into  the  moimtainous  country  for  their  fecurity*. 

And  happy  was  it  for  them  that  they  did  fo,  for  the 
miferies  experienced  by  the  Jews  in  that  fiege  were  almoft 
without  a  parallel  in  the  hiftory  of  the  world.  "  Then," 
fays  our  Saviour,  "  fliall  be  great  tribulation,  fuch  as  was 
not  from  the  beginning  of  the  world  to  this  time,  no,  nor 
ever  fliall  be."  This  expreflion  rs  a  proverbial  one,  fre- 
quently made  ufe  of  by  the  facred  v/riters  to  exprefs  fome 
very  uncommon  calaraityf ,  and  therefore  it  is  not 
necefTary  to  take  the  words  in  their  ftridleft  fenfe.  But  yet 
m  fad  they  were  in  the  prefent  inftance  almoft:  literally 
fulfilled ;  and  whoever  will  turn  to  the  hiftory  of  this  war 
by  Jofephus,  and  there  read  the  detail  of  the  horrible  and 
almoft  incredible  calamities  endured  by  the  inhabitants 
of  Jerufalem,  during  the  fiege,  not  only  from  the  fire 
and  fword  of  the  enemies  without,  but  from  famine  and 
peftilence,  and  continual  maffacres  and  murders  from 
the  fiend-like  fury  of  the  feditious  zealots  within,  will  be 
convinced,  that  the  very  ftrong  terms  made  ufe  of  by  our 
Lord,  even  when  literally  interpreted,  do  not  go  beyond 
the  truth.  Indeed  Jofephus  himfelf,  in  his  preface  to  his 
hiftory,  expreffes  himfelf  almoft  in  the  very. fame  words  : 
"  our  city,  fays  he,  of  all  thofe  fabjeded  to  tlie  Romans, 
was  raifed  to  the  higheft  felicity,  and  was  thruft  down 
again  to  the  loweft  gulph  of  mifery  ;  for  if  the  misfor- 
tunes of  all  from  the  beginning  of  the  world  were  com- 
pared with  thofe  of  the  Jews,  they  would  appear  much 
inferior  upon  the  comparifonj."  Is  not  this  almoft 
precifely  what  our  Saviour  fays,  "  there  fhall  be  great 
tribulation,  fuch  as  was  not  from  the  beginning  of  the 
world  to  this  time,  no,  nor  ever  fliall  be."     It  is  impoflible 

*  De  Bell.  Jud.  1.  iv.  c.  8  f.  a.  p.  1193-  Ed.  Huds. 
t  Ex.  X.  14.    Joel.  ii.  2.    Dan.  xii.  i.    Maccab,  ix.  27. 
\  De  Bell.  Jud,  Proccniium,  p,  955.  Ed   Huds. 


LECTURE    XIX.  311 

«ne  would  think,  even  for  the  moft  ftubbom  infidel,  not 
to  be  ftruck  with  the  great  fimilarity  of  thefe  two  paffages  ; 
and  not  to  fee  that  the  prediction  of  our  Lord,  and  tlie 
accompHfhment  of  it,  as  defcribed  by  the  hiftorian,  are 
exact  counterparts  of  each  other,  and  feem  ahnoft  as  if 
they  had  been  written  by  the  very  fame  perfon.  Yet  Jo- 
fephus  was  not  bom  till  after  our  Saviour  was  crucified  ; 
and  he  was  not  a  Chriftian,  but  a  Jew ;  and  certainly 
never  meant  to  give  any  teftimcny  to  the  truth  of  our 
religion. 

The  calamities  above  mentioned  were  fo  fevere,  that 
had  they  been  of  long  continuance  the  v.'hole  Jewifii  nation 
muft  have  been  deftroyed  ;  "  except  thofe  days  ihould  bo 
fhortened,  tliere  fliould  no  flefli  be  faved,  fays  Chrift,  in 
the  23d  verfe  ;  but  (he  adds)  for  the  eleft's  fake,  thofe 
days  fliall  be  fhortened/'  They  luere  fhortened  for  the 
fake  of  the  ele6t,  that  is>  of  thofe  Jews  who  had  been 
converted  to  Chriftianity  ;  and  they  were  fhortened  by  the 
befieged  themfelves,  by  their  feditious  and  mutual  flaugh- 
ters,  and  their  madnefs  in  burning  their  own  provifions. 

«  Then,  continues  Jefus,  if  any  man  fhall  fay  unto 
you,  Lo  ;  here  is  Chrift,  or  there,  believe  it  not :  for 
there  fhall  arife  falfe  Chrifts  and  falfe  prophets,  and  Ihall 
fhew  great  figns  and  wonders,  infomuch  that  (if  it  were 
poffible)  they  fhall  deceive  the  very  eled.  Behold,  I 
have  told  you  before.  Wherefore,  if  they  fhall  fay  unto 
you  he  is  in  the  defert ;  go  not  forth  :  behold  he  is  in  the 
iecret  chambers :  believe  it  not.  For  as  the  lightning 
Cometh  out  of  the  eaft  and  fhineth  even  unto  the  the  wefl, 
fo  fhall  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  man  be.  For  where- 
foever  the  carcafe  is,  there  fhall  the  eagles  be  gathered 
together."  Our  Lord  had  already  cautioned  his  difciples 
againft  believing  the  falfe  Chrifts  and  falfe  prophets  who 
would  appear  before  the  fiege,  and  he  now  warns  them 
againft  thofe  that  would  rife  up  during  the  fiege.  This, 
Jofephus,  tells  us,  they  did  in  great  abundance  ;  and 
flattered  the  Jews  with  the  hope  of  feeing  their  Meffiali 
coming,  with  great  power,  to  refcue  them  from  the 
hands  of  the   Romans*.     And  they  alfo  pretended  to 

*  Jof.  de  Bell.  Jud.  1.  vL  c.  5.  f,  a.  p;  n8l.  and  Eufeb.  Hift> 
Eccles.  1.  iv,  c.  6. 


312  LECTURE     XIX. 

Jhe<w  fgns  and  'wonders  ;  the  very  words  made  ufe  of  by 
the  fame  hiftorian,  as  well  as  by  our  Lord*.  And  it  is 
remarkable  tliat  Chrift  here  foretels,  not  only  the  appear- 
ance of  thefe  falfe  prophets,  but  the  very  places  to  which 
they  would  lead  their  deluded  followers ;  and  thefe  were> 
the  "  defert,  and  the  fecret  chamber."  And  accordingly, 
if  you  look  into  the  hiftory  of  Jofephus,  you  will  find 
both  thefe  places  diftinclly  fpecified  as  the  theatres  on  which 
thefe  impoftors.  exhibited  their  delufions.  For  the  hifto- 
ran  relates  a  variety  of  inftances  in  which  thefe  falfe  Chrifts 
and  falfe  prophets  betrayed  their  followers  into  the  defert, 
where  they  were  conftantly  deftroyed ;  and  he  alfo  mentions 
one  of  thefe  pretenders,  who  declared  to  the  inhabitants  of 
Jerufalem,  that  God  commanded  them  to  go  up  into  a  par- 
ticular part  of  the  temple  (into  the  fecret  chamber)  as  our 
Lord  exprefles  it)  and  there  they  fhould  receive  the  figns 
of  deliverance.  A  multitude  of  men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren went  up  accordingly ;  but,  inftead  of  deliverance, 
the  place  was  fet  on  fire  by  the  Romans,  and  fix  thoufand 
perrifiied  miferably  in  the  fiames,  or  by  endeavoring  to 
efcape  them.f 

But  the  appearance  of  the  true  Chrift  was  not  to  be  in 
that  way  ;  it  was  to  be  as  vifible  and  as  rapid  as  a  flafti  of 
lightning :  "  for  as  the  lightning  cometh  out  of  the  eaft 
and  fhineth  even  unto  the  weft,  fo  Ihall  alfo  the  coming 
of  the  Son  of  man  be."  It  fiiall  not  be  in  a  remote  defert 
or  in  a  fecret  chamber  of  the  temple,  but  fhall  be  ren- 
dered confpicuous  by  the  fudden  and  entire  overthrow  of 
Jerufalem,  and  its  inhabitants. 

"  For  wheiefoever  the  carcafe  is,  there  will  the  eagles 
be  gathered  together." 

By  the  carcafe  is  meant  the  Jewilli  nation,  which  was 
morally  and  judicially  dead  ;  and  the  inftruments  of  divine 
vengeance,  that  is  the  Roman  armies,  whofe  ftandards- 
were  eagles,  would  be  coUefted  together  againft  the  wick^ 
ed  people,  as  eagles  are  gathered  together  to  devour  their 
prey. 

*  Jof.  Antiq.  I.  XX.  c.  a;,  f.  6.  p  983-  Ed.  Huds. 
f  Jof.  Antiq.  I-  XX.  c.  7-  f  6.  and  c-  7.  f.  lo-    De  B^IL  Jud.  1.  ii,  c 
rj-f-  4.  and  1.  vii.  c-  11  L  i>  Ed  Huds. 


LECTURE     XIX.  31S 

Bi  the  three  following  verfes,  the  language  of  our  di* 
vine  Matter  becomes  highly  figurative  and  fublime* 
"  Immediately  after  the  tribulation  of  thofe  days  fliall 
the  fun  be  darkened,  and  the  moon  fhall  not  give  her  light, 
and  the  ftars  fhall  fall  from  heaven,  and  the  powers  of 
the  heavens  (hall  be  fhaken.  And  then  fhall  appear  the 
lign  of  the  Son  of  man  in  heaven  :  and  then  fhall  all  the 
tribes  of  the  earth  mourn,  and  they  fhall  fee  the  Son  of 
man  coming  in  the  clouds  of  heaven  with  power  and  great 
glory.  And  he  fhall  fend  his  angels  with  a  great  found 
of  a  trumpet,  and  they  fhall  gather  his  eleft  from  the  four 
winds  from  the  one  end  of  heavsn  to  the  other."" 

Few  people,  I  believe,  read  thefe  verfes,  without  fup- 
pofmg  that  they  refer  entirely  to  the  day  of  judgment, 
many  of  thefe  expreiCons  being  adually  applied  to  that 
great  event  in  the  very  next  chapter,  and  in  other  parts  of 
fcripture  ;  and  indeed  feveral  eminent  men  and  learned 
commentators  are  of  that  opinion,  and  imagine  that  our 
Lord  here  makes  a  tranfition  from  the  deflru^Hiion  of  Je- 
rufalem  to  the  end  of  the  world,  conceiving  that  fuch  ve- 
ry bold  figures  of  fpeech  could  not  v/Ith  propriety  be  ap- 
plied to  the  fubverfion  and  extinftion  of  any  city  or  ftate, 
however  great  and  powerful.  But  the  faft  is,  that  thefe 
very  fame  metaphors  do  frequently  in  fcripture  denote  the 
■deftrudlion  of  nations,  cities,  and  kingdoms.  Thus 
Ifaiah*,  fpeaking  of  the  deflrudlicn  of  Babylon,  fays, 
**  Behold  the  day  of  the  Lord  cometh,  cruel  both  with 
wrath  and  fierce  anger,  to  lay  the  land  defolate,  and  he 
fhall  deftroy  the  fmners  thereof  out  of  it.  For  the  flars 
of  heaven,  and  the  conftellations  thereof,  fhall  not  give 
their  light ;  the  fun  fhall  be  darkened  in  his  going  forth 
and  the  moon  fhall  net  caufe  her  light  to  fhine."  And  in 
almofl  the  fame  terms  he  defcribes  the  punilhment  of  the 
Idumaeansf ,  and  of  Senacherib  and  his  peoplej.  Ezekiel 
fpeaks  in  the  fame  manner  of  EgyptJ  ;  and  Daniel,  of 
the  flaughter  of  the  Jewsjl  ;  and,  what  is  flill  more  to  the 
point,  the  prophet  Joel  defcribes  this  very  deflruflion  ot 
Jerufalem  in  terms  very  fimilar  to  thofe  of  Chrifl,     "  I 

*  Ch.  xiii-   9.  §   Ch.   xxxii.   7,  8- 

f  Ch.  xxxiv.  34.  [(   Ch-  viii.   10. 

i  Ch.  li.  6. 

X    2 


314.  LECTURE     XIX. 

will  fhew  wonders  in  the  heavens  ;  and  and  in  the  earth, 
blood,  and  fire,  and  pillars  of  fmoke.  The  fun  fhall  be' 
turned  into  darknefs,  and  the  moon  into  blood,  before  the 
great  and  terrible  day  of  the  Lord  fhall  come*." 

It  is  evident  then  that  the  phrafes  here  made  ufe  of,  of 
"  the  fun  being  darkened,  and  the  moon  not  giving  her 
light,  and  the  ftars  falling  from  heaven,  and  the'  powers 
of  heaven  being  fhaken,"  are  figures  meant  to  exprefs  the 
fall  of  cities,  kingdortis,  and  nations ;  and  the  origin  of 
this  fort  of  language  it  well  illuftrated  by  a  late  very  learn- 
ed prelatef ,  who  tells  us,  that  in  ancient  hieroglyphic 
writing,  the  fun,  moon,  and  ftars,  were  ufed  to  repre- 
fent  ftates  and  empires,  kings,  queens,  and  nobility  ;  their 
eclipfe  or  extinction  denoted  temporary  difafters,  or  entire 
overthrow,  &c.  So  the  prophets  in  like  manner  call  kings 
and  empires  by  the  names  of  the  heavenly  luminaries. 
Stars  falling  from  the  firmament  are  employed  to  denote 
the  deftiaidion  of  the  nobility,  and  other  great  men  ; 
infomupH,  that  in  reality  the  prophetic  ftyle  feems  to  be 
a /peaking  hieroglyphic^*" 

In  the  fame  manner,  in  the  next  verfe,  thofe  awfu! 
words,  "  then  fhall  appear  the  fign  of  the  Son  of  man  in 
heaven  :  and  then  fhall  all  the  tribes  of  the  earth  mourn, 
and  they  fhall  fee  the  Son  of  man  coming  in  the  clouds  of 
heaven  with  power  and  great  glory,"  feem  applicable 
folely  to  the  laft  advent  of  Chrift  to  judge  the  world ; 
and  yet  it  is  certain;  that  in  their  primary  fignification 
they  refer  to  the  manifeftation  of  Chrift's  power  and  glo- 
ry, in  coming  to  execute  judgment  on  the  guilty  Jews, 
by  the  total  overthrow  of  their  temple,  their  city,  and 
their  government ;  for  fo  our  Lord  himfelf  explains  what 
is  meant  by  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  many  in  the  27th,  28th, 
and  37th  verfes  of  this  chapter.  And  when  the  prophet 
Daniel  is  predidling  this  very  appearance  of  Chrift  to  pun- 
ifh  the  Jews,  he  defcribes  him  as  "  coming  in  the  clouds 
of  heaven,  and  there  was  given  him  dominion  and  glory, 
aiid  a  kingdom}." 

*  Ch.  il.  30,  31.  f  Bifhop  Warburton. 

I  Div.  Leg.  ▼.  a.  b.  ir.  s.  4.  §  Daniel,  vii.  14. 


LECTURE    XIX.  315: 

The  feme  remark  will  hold  with  regard  to  the  31^ 
verfe  :  "  he  fhall  fend  his  angels  with  a  great  found  of  a 
trumpet,  and  they  fliall  gather  together  his  ele6t  from  the 
four  winds,  from  one  end  of  the  earth  even  to  the  other." 
Thefe  words  alfo,  though  they  feem  as  if  they  could  be- 
long to  no  other  fubjedl  than  the  laft  day,  yet  moft  afTured- 
ly  relate  principally  to  the  great  objeft  of  this  prophecy, 
tAe  deftrudion  of  Jerufalem  ;  after  which  dreadful  event 
we  are  here  told,  that  Chrift  will  ftnd  forth  his  angels  p 
that  is,  his  mefTengers  or  minifters  (for  fo  tliat  word 
ftridly  fignifies*)  to  preach  his  gofpel  to  all  the  world, 
which  preaching  is  called  by  the  prophets,  "  lifting  up  the. 
voice  like  a  trumpet\  ;  and  they  fhall  gather  together  his 
elect  (that  is,  fhall  coUeft  difciples  and  converts  to  the 
faith)  from  the  four  winds,  from  the  four  quarters  of  the 
earth  ;"  or,  as  St.  Luke  exprefles  it,  "  from  the  eaft,  and 
from  the  v/efl.,  from  the  north,  and  from  the  Ibutht." 

Our  Lord  then  goes  on  to  point  out  the  time  when  all 
thefe  things  fliall  take  place,  and  thus  anfwers  the  other 
queifion  put  to  him  by  the  difciples,  "  Tell  us,  when  fhall 
thefe  things  be  ?"  *^  Novv^  learn,  fays  he,  a  parable  of  the 
fig-tree  ;  when  his  branch  is  yet  tender,  and  putteth  fortli 
leaves)  ye  know  that  tiie  fummer  is  nigh  :  fo  likewife  ye, 
when  ye  fliall  fee  all  thefe  things,  know  that  it  is  near, 
even  at  the  doors.  Verily  I  fay  unto  you,,  this  generation 
fhall  not  pals  till  all  thefe  things  be  fulfilled.  Heaven 
and  earth  fhall  pafs  away,  but  my  words  fhall  not  pafs 
2,way." 

The  only  obfervation  necefTary  to  be  made  here  is,  that 
the  time  when  all  thefe  predidions  were  to  be  fulfilled  is 
here  limited  to  a  certain  period.  They  were  to  be  accom- 
plilhed  before  the  generation  of  men  then  exifting  fhould 
pafs  away.  And  accordingly  all  thefe  events  did  adtually 
take  place  within  forty  years  after  our  Saviour  delivered 
this  prophecy ;  and  this  by  the  way  is  an  unanfwerabk 
proof,  that  every  thing  our  Lord  had  been  faying  in  the 
preceding  part  of  the  chapter  related  principally,  not  to 

*  VId.  Haggai,  i-  13,  Malach,  ii.  7.™iii.  I.  Matth.  xi.  10-  Ivlark» 
I.  a.    Luke,  vii.  ay. 

f  Ifaiah,  Iviii-  i.  \  Luke   xiii.  29- 


S16  LE  C  T  U  R  E     XIX. 

the  day  of  judgment,  or  to  any  other  very  remote  event, 
but  to  the  deftrudion  of  Jerufalem,  which  did  in  reality 
happen  before  that  generation  had  pafled  away. 

"  But  of  that  day  and  hour  knoweth  no  man ;  no,  not 
the  angels  of  heaven,  but  my  Father  only ;"  that  is,  al- 
though the  time  when  Jerufalem  is  to  be  deflroyed,  is,  as 
I  have  told  you,  fixed  generally  to  this  generation,  yet  the 
precife  day  and  hour  of  that  event  is  not  known  either  to 
men  or  angels,  but  to  God  only.  This  he  fpeaks  in  his 
human  nature,  and  in  his  prophetic  capacity.  This  point 
v/as  not  made  known  to  him  by  the  fpirit,  nor  was  he 
commiffioned  to  reveal  it. 

It  is  fuppofed  by  feveral  learned  commentators,  that 
the  words,  that  day  and  that  hour,  refer  to  the  day  of 
judgment,  which  is  immediately  alluded  to  in  the  prece- 
ding verfe,  heaven  and  earth  Jhall pajs  away.  This  conjec- 
ture is  an  ingenious  one,  and  may  be  true ;  but  if  it  be, 
this  verfe  fhould  be  inclofed  in  a  parenthefis,  becaufe  what 
follows  moft  certainly  relates  to  the  deftruiflion  of  Jerufa- 
lem, (to  which  St.  Luke  in  tlie  feventeenth  chapter  ex- 
prefsly  confines  it*)  and  cannot,  without  great  violence 
to  the  words,  be  applied  to  the  final  advent  of  Chrift. 
"  As  the  days  of  Noe  v^rere,  fo  fhall  alfo  the  coming  of 
the  Son  of  man  be.  For  as  in  the  days  that  were  before 
the  flood,  they  were  eating  and  drinking,  marrying  and 
giving  in  marriage,  until  the  day  that  Noe  entered  into 
the  ark,  and  knew  not  until  the  flood  came,  and  took  them 
all  away  ;  fo  fliall  alfo  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  man  be. 
Then  fliall  two  be  in  the  field  ;  the  one  fliall  be  taken,  and 
the  other  left.  Two  Vv^omen  fliall  be  grinding  at  the  mill ; 
the  one  fliall  be  taken,  and  the  other  left."  That  is,  when 
the  day  of  defolation  fnall  come  upon  the  city  and  temple 
of  Jerufalem,  the  inhabitants  will  be  as  thoughtlefs  and 
unconcerned,  and  as  unprepared  for  it,  as  the  antediluvi- 
ans were  for  the  flood  in  the  days  of  Noah.  But  as  fome 
(more  particularly  the  Chrifl;ians)  will  be  more  watchful, 
and  in  a  better  fl:ate  of  mind  than  others,  the  providence 
of  God  will  make  a  dirtindion  between  his  faithful  and  his 

*  Luke,  xvii,  a6,  27,  H^  36, 


LECTURE    XIX.  31? 

difobedient  fervants,  and  will  proteift  and  preferve  the  for- 
mer, but  leave  the  latter  to  be  taken  or  deftroyed  by  their 
enemies  ;  although  they  may  both  be  in  the  fame  fituation 
of  life,  may  be  engaged  in  the  fame  occupations,  and  may 
appear  to  the  world  to  be  in  every  refpeft  in  fimilar  circum-' 
(lances. 

Here  ends  the  prophetical  part  of  our  Lord's  difcourfe ; 
what  follows  is  altogether  exhortatory.  It  may  be  called 
the  moral  of  the  prophecy,  and  the  pradical  application 
of  it  not  only  to  his  immediate  hearers,  but  to  his  difciples 
in  all  future  ages ;  for  this  concluding  admonition  moft 
certainly  alludes  no  lefs  to  the  final  judgment  than  to  the 
deftru<5tion  of  Jerufalem,  and  applies  with  at  leaft  equal 
force  to  both.  Indeed  the  prophecy  itfelf,  although  in  its 
primary  and  ftridleft  fenfe  it  relates  throughout  to  the  de- 
ftru6lion  of  the  temple,  city,  and  government  of  Jerufa- 
lem, yet,  as  I  have  before  obfervcd  may  be  confidered, 
and  was  probably  intended  by  Jefus,  as  a  type  and  an  em- 
blem of  the  diflblution  of  the  world  itfelf,  to  which  the 
total  fubverfion  of  a  great  city  and  a  whole  nation  bears 
fome  refemblance.  But  with  refpedl  to  the  conclufion, 
there  can  be  no  doubt  of  its  being  intended  to  call  our  at- 
tention to  the  laft  folemn  day  of  account ;  and  with  a 
view  of  its  producing  this  efFe(5l,  I  lliall  now  prefs  it  upon 
your  minds  in  the  very  words  of  our  Lord,  without  any 
comment,  for  it  is  too  clear  to  require  any  explanation, 
and  too  impreffive  to  require  any  additional  enforcement. 
"  Watch  ye  therefore,  for  ye  know  not  at  what  hour  your 
Lord  doth  come.  But  know  this,  that  if  the  good  man 
of  the  houfe  had  knowoi  in  what  watch  the  thief  v;ould 
come,  he  would  have  watched,  and  would  not  have  fuf- 
fered  his  houfe  to  be  broken  up.  Therefore  be  ye  alfo 
ready  ;  for  in  fuch  an  hour  as  ye  think  not  the  Son  of  man 
cometh.  Who  then  is  a  faithful  and  a  wife  fervant,  whom 
his  Lord  hath  made  ruler  over  his  houfehold,  to  give  them 
meat  in  due  feafon  ?  Bleffed  is  that  fervant,  whom  his 
Lord  when  he  cometh  fliall  find  fo  doing.  Verily  I  fay 
Unto  you,  that  he  fliall  make  him  ruler  over  all  his  goods. 
But  and  if  that  evil  fervant  lliall  fay  in  his  heart,  my 


515  LECTURE    XIX, 

Lord  delayeth  his  coming  ;  and  begin  to  fmite  his  fellow- 
fervants,  and  to  eat  and  drink  with  the  drunken  ;  the  Lord 
of  that  fervant  Ihall  come  in  a  day  when  he  looketh  not 
for  him,  and  in  an  hour  that  he  is  not  aware  of,  and  fiiall 
cut  him  afunder,  and  appoint  him  his  portion  with  the 
hypocrites  ;  there  fhall  be  weeping  and  gnaHiing  of  t^eth." 


LECTURE     XX. 

MATTHEW  xiiv.— XXV. 


I 


.N  my  laft  Le(5lure  I  explained  to  you  that  remark- 
able prophecy  refpeding  the  deflru6lion  of  Jerufalem, 
which  is  contained  in  the  twenty-fourth  chapter  of  St. 
Matthew  ;  and  by  a  reference  to  the  hiftorians  who  record 
or  mention  that  event,  I  proved  to  you  the  complete  and 
exad  accomplifhment  of  that  wonderful  predi6tion  in  all 
its  parts.  And  this,  in  a  common  cafe,  I  fhould  have 
thought  fully  fufficient  for  your  fatisfadion.  But  this 
prophecy  (lands  fo  eminently  diftinguifhed  by  its  fingular 
importance,  and  the  great  variety  of  matter  which  it  em- 
braces, and  it  affords  fo  decifive,  fo  irrefiftible  a  proof  of 
the  divine  authority  of  our  religion,  that  it  appears  to  me 
to  be  well  worthy  of  a  little  more  attention  and  confider- 
ation.  I  fliall  therefore,  before  I  proceed  to  the  next 
chapter,  make  fuch  further  remarks  upon  it,  as  may  tend 
to  throw  new  light  upon  the  fubjedi,  to  fhew  more  diftindlly 
the  exaift  correfpondence  of  the  prediction  with  the  event, 
and  to  point  out  the  very  interelling  conclufions  that  may 
be  drawn  from  it. 

And  firft  I  would  obferve,  that,  in  fome  inftances,  the 
providence  of  God  feems  evidently  to  have  interpofed  in 
order  to  bring  about  feveral  of  the  events,  which  Jefus 
here  alludes  to  or  predicts.  Thus,  in  the  twelfth  year  of 
Nero  Geftius  Gallus,  the  prefident  of  Syria,  came  againft 
Jerufalem  with  a  powerful  army ;  and,  as  Jofephus  af- 
fures  us,  he  might,  had  he  afiaulted  the  city,  eafily  have 
taken  it,  and  thereby  have  put  an  end  to  the  vv^ar*.  But 
without  any  apparent  reafon,  and  contrary  to  all  expeda- 
tion,  he  fuddenly  raifed  the  fiege,  and  departed.  This, 
and  fome  other  v^y  incidental  delays,  which  took  place 
before  Vefpafian  befieged  the  city,  and  Titus  furrounded 
it  with  a  wall,  gave  the  Chriftians  within  an  opportunity 

•  De  Bell,  Jud.  1  %  c,  19. 


3«0  LECTURE     XX. 

of  following  our  Lord's  advice,  and  of  efcaping  to  the 
mountains,  which  afterwards  it  would  have  been  impoffi- 
ble  for  them  to  do. 

In  the  fame  manner  the  befieged  inhabitants  themfelves 
helped  to  fulfil  another  of  our  Saviour's  predictions,  that 
thofe  days  Jhould'he  Jloortened  ;  for  they  burnt  their  own  pro- 
vifions,  which  would  have  been  fufEcient  for  many  years, 
and  fatally  deferted  their  ftrongefl  holds,  where  they  never 
could  have  been  taken  by  force,  the  fortifications  of  the 
city  being  confidered  as  impregnable.  Titus  was  fo  fenli- 
ble  of  this,  that  he  himfelf  afcribed  his  fuccefs  to  God, 
"  We  have  fought,  faid  he  to  his  friends,  with  God  on 
our  fide  ;  and  it  is  God  who  hath  dragged  the  Jews  out 
of  their  ftrong  holds  ;  for  what  could  tlie  hands  of  men 
and  machines  do  againfl  fuch  towers  as  thefe*?" 

In  the  next  place,  it  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  at  the  time 
%vhen  our  Lord  delivered  this  prophecy,  there  was  not  the 
flighteft  probability  of  the  Romans  invading  Judaea,  much 
lefs  of  their  befieging  the  city  of  Jerufalem,  of  their  fur- 
rounding  it  wdth  a  wall,  of  their  taking  it  by  ftorm,  and  of 
their  deftroying  the  temple  fo  entirely,  as  not  to  leave  one 
ftone  upon  another.  The  Jews  were  then  at  perfed  peace 
with  the  Romans.  The  latter  could  have  no  motives  of 
intereft  or  of  policy  to  invade,  deftroy,  and  depopulate  a 
country,  which  was  already  fubjed  to  them,  and  from 
which  they  reaped  many  advantages.  The  fortifications 
too  of  the  city  v^ere  (as  I  have  before  obferved)  fo  ftrong, 
that  they  were  ^eemed  invincible  by  any  human  force, 
and  it  was  not  the  cuftom  of  the  Romans  to  demolifh  and 
raife  the  very  foundations  of  the  towns  they  took,  and 
exterminate  the  inhabitants,  but  rather  to  preferve  them 
as  monuments  of  their  vidories  and  their  triumphs. 

It  could  not  therefore  be  from  mere  human  fagacity  and 
forefight  that  our  Saviour  foretold  thefe  events  ;  or  had  he 
even  hazared  a  conjeftiire,  refpedling  a  war  with  the  Ro- 
mans, and  the  jlcge  of  Jerufalem,  yet  he  could  only  have 
done  this  in  general  terms ;  he  could  never  have  imagined 

*  NewtomV-  Differt.  on,P*ophec>-,  v.  %.  p.  ^76, 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E    XX,  321 

x>r  invented  fuch  a  variety  of  minute  particulars  as  he  did 
predi^a,  and  as  aftually  came  to  pafs. 

It  is  indeed  of  great  importance  to  obferve  the  furpriz- 
ing  aflemblage  of  ftriking  circumftances,  which  Chrift 
pointed  out  in  this  prophecy.  They  are  much  more  nu- 
merous than  is  commonly  fuppofed,  and  well  deferve  to 
be  diftindlly  fpecified. 

They  may  be  arranged  under  three  general  heads. 

The  firfl  confifts  of  thofe  figns  that  were  to  precsde  the 
deftru<3:ion  of  Jerufalem. 

And  thefe  figns  were,  falfe  Chrifts,  falfe  prophets,  ru«« 
mours  of  wars,  a6tual  wars,  nation  rifmg  againft  nation, 
famines,  peftilences,  earthquakes,  fearful  fights,  the  per- 
fecution  of  the  apoftles,  the  apoftacy  of  Ibme  Chriftians, 
and  the  treachery  of  others,  the  prefervation  of  Chrift's 
faithful  difciples,  and  the  propagation  of  the  Gofpel 
through  the  whole  Roman  world. 

The  fecond  head  is  the  commencement  of  the  ^vs^ii. 

Under  this  head  are  fpecified  the  diftinguifhing  ftand- 
ard  of  the  Roman  army,  the  eagle,  with  the  images  of 
their  gods  and  their  emperors  affixed  to  it. 

The  idolatrous  worfhip  paid  to  this  ftandard,  called  the 
abomination,  for  fo  it  was  to  the  Jews. 

The  planting  of  this  jftandard  near  the  holy  city,  and 
afterwards  in  the  very  temple. 

The  defolation  which  the  Roman  armies  fpread  around 
them. 

The  efcape  of  the  Chriftians  to  the  mountainous  coun- 
try round  Jerufalem. 

The  inconceivable  and  unparalleled  calamities  of  every 
kind  which  the  wretched  inhabitants  endured  during  the 

Y 


^22  L  E  C  T  U  K.  E    ^^, 

•dege;  and  the  fhortening  of  tliofe  days  of  vengeance  07. 
account  of  the  Chriiiians. 

The  third  head  Is,  the  atTtual  capture  of  Jerufalern  by 
■^the  befieging  army. 

And  here  it  is  ibretold,  *'  that  not  one  ftone  of  its  mag- 
niiicent  buildings  fliould  be  left  upon  another ;''  that  the 
temple,  the  government,  the  fiate,  the  polity  of  tlie  Jews, 
iliould  be  utterly  fubverted  :  and  lalHy,  ■  that  all  thefe 
things  fhould  happen  before  tlie  then  preient  race  of  men 
C'lould-bev  extinguifned. 

If  now  we  collect  together  the  feveral  particulars  her^ 
Specified,  they  amount  to  no  lefs  than  twenty-two  in  num- 
ber. A  larger  detail  of  minute  circumftances  than  is  to 
he  found  in  any  other  of  our  Lord's  prophecies  ;  and  all 
thefe  we  fee  a£9:uaily  fulfilled  in  the  hiftory  of  Jofephus, 
and  other  ancient  writers  ;  and  it  is  extremely  remarkable 
that  his  defcfiption  .of  the  fiege  of  Jerufalern,  like  this 
prophecy,  is  more  minutely  circumftantial  and  more  fpread 
out  into  detail,  than  the  account  of  any  other  fiege^ 
that  we  have  in  ancient  hiftor}^  It  fhould  feem  therefore 
as  if  this  hiilorian  was  purpofely  raifed  up  by  Providence 
to  record  this  memorable  event,  and  to  verify  our  Saviour's 
predictions.  And  ind-eed  no  one  could  poffibly  be  better 
qualified  for  the  tafk  tlian  he,,  from  his  fituation  and  clr- 
cumftances,  from  his  integrity  and  veracity,  and  above 
all  from  the  opportunities  he  had  of  being  perfe^ly  well 
aco^uainted  wiih  every  thing  he  relates. 

.  -He  was  born  at  Jeruialem,  under  the  reign  of  the  em- 
peror Caligula,  and  about  feven  years  after  our  Lord's 
crucifixion.  He  was  of  a  noble  family  ;  on  his  father's 
fide  defcended  from  the  moll  illuftrious  of  the  high  priefts  ; 
and  on  his  motlier's  fide,  from  the  blood  royal.  At  the 
age  of  nineteen,  after  having  made  a  trial  of  all  the  dif- 
ferent feds  of  the  Jews,  he  embraced  that  of  the  Phari- 
fees  ;  and  at  the  age  of  twenty-fix  lie  made  a  journey  to 
Rome,  to  obtain  from  Nero  the  releafe  of  fome  Jewlfh 
priefts,  who  had  been  thrown  into  bonds  by  Felix  the  pro- 
curator of  Judaea.     He  fucceeded  in  tliis  bufinefs ;  and  on 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E     XX.  323 

liTS  rcturn  to  Jerufalem  found  his  countrymen  reJfolved  on 
commencing  hoftilities  againft  the  Romans,  from  which 
he  endeavored  to  difliiade  them,  but  in  vain.  He  was 
foon  after  appointed  by  the  Jewifh  government  to  the  com- 
mand of  an  army  in  Galilee,  where  he  fignalized  himfelf 
in  many  engagements  ;  but  at  the  fiege  of  Jotapata  was 
taken  prifoner  by  Vefpafian,  and  afterwards  carried  by- 
Titus  to  the  fiege  of  Jerufalem,  where  he  was  an  eye-wit- 
nefs  of  every  thing  that  paffed,  till  tlie  city  was  taken  and 
deftroyed  by  the  Romans.  He  then  compofed  his  hiftory 
of  the  Jewilh  war,  and  particularly  of  the  fiege  and  cap- 
ture of  Jerufalem,  in  feven  books ;  which  he  firft  ^vrote 
in  Hebrew,  and  afterwards  in  Greek,  and  prefented  it  to 
Vefpafian  and  Titus,  by  both  of  whom  it  was  highly  ap- 
proved, and  ordered  to  be  made  public.  And  it  is  in  this 
hillory  tliat  we  find  tlie  accompliiliment  of  all  the  feveral 
fa<5ts  and  events  relative  to  the  fiege  and  tlie  deftruiftion  of 
Jerufalem,  which  our  Saviour  foretold  forty  years  before 
they  happened,  and  which  have  been  above  recited.  This 
hiftory  is  fpoken  of  in  the  highefl  terms  by  men  of  the 
greateft  learning  and  the  founded  judgment,  from  its  firfl 
publication  to  the  prefent  time. 

The  fidelity,  the  veracity,  and  probity  df  the  writer, 
tire  univerfally  allowed  ;  and  Scaliger  in  particular  de- 
clares, that  not  only  in  the  affairs  of  the  Jews,  but  even, 
of  foreign  nations,  he  deferves  more  credit  than  all  the 
Greek  and  Romon  writers  put  together*.  Certain  at  lea/l: 
it  is,  that  he  had  that  moft  eflbntial  qualification  of  an 
hiftorian,  a  perfedt  and  accurate  knowledge  of  all  the 
tranfactions  which  he  relates  ;  that  he  had  no  prejudices  to 
miflead  him  in  tlie  rejvrefentation  of  them  ;  and  that, 
above  all,  he  meant  no  favor  to  the  Chriftian  caufe.  For 
even  allowing  the  fo  much  controverted  pafTage,  in  which 
he  is  fuppofed  to  bear  tefllmoiiy  to  Chrift,  to  be  genuine, 
it  does  not  appear  that  he  ever  became  a  convert  to  his  reli- 
gion, but  continued  probably  a  zealous  Jew  to  the  end  of 
his  life. 

From  this  account  it  is  evident,  that  we  may  moft  fe- 
curely  rely  on  every  thing  he  tells  us  refpeding  the  fiege  of 

*  In.  Prolejom.  ad  opys  de  ^n^ndatione  Tcmporum. 


^*  L  E  C  T  U  R  E    XX. 

Jeriifalem ;  and  that  nothing  can  more  completely  demon- 
ilrate  the  truth  of  our  blefled  Lord's  predidions,  than  the 
uncorrupt,  impartial,  and  undefigned  teftimony  given  to 
their  completion  fey  this  juftly  celebrated  hiftorian. 

Here  then  we  have  a  proof,  which  it  is  impofTible  to 
cbntrovert,  of  our  Saviour's  perfedl  knowledge  of  future 
events,  which  belongs  folely  to  God,  and  to  thofe  infpired 
and  fent  by  him  ;  v/hich  of  courfe  eilablifhes,  in  the  clear- 
eft  manner,  the  divine  miffion  of  Chrift,  and  the  divine 
origin  of  our  religion. 

The  only  pretence  that  can  poflibly  be  fet  up  againft 
this  prophecy  is,  that  it  was  not  delivered  by  our  Saviour 
previous  to  the  deftrudlion  of  Jerufalem,  but  inferted  af- 
terwards by  St.  Matthew  and  the  other  evangelifts,  fubfe- 
quent  to  that  event.  This  may  undoubtedly  be  faid,  and 
any  tiling  may  be  faid  by  thofe  whofe  trade  is  objeftion  and 
cavil :  but  can  it  be  faid  with  the  fmalleft  appearance  of 
truth  ?  Is  there  the  flighteft  ground  to  fupport  it  ?  Moft 
certainly  not.  It  is  a  mere  gratuitous  affertion  without  the 
leaft  (hadow  of  proof;  and  an  oppofite  affertion  is  a  fuffi- 
cient  anfwer  to  it.  We  deny  the  fadl ;  and  call  upon  our 
adverfaries  to  prove  it,  if  they  can  :  they  have  never  fo 
much  as  attempted  it.  Not  even  the  earliejl  enemies  of 
our  faith,  thofe  who  were  mujch  nearer  the  primitive  ages, 
iind  much  more  likely  to  dete>5t  a  fraud  in  the  evangelical 
writers  (if  there  were  any)  than  modern  infidels,  even 
thefe  never  intimate  the  flightefl  fufpicion  that  tliis  prophe- 
cy was  inferted  after  the  event. 

But  befides  this,  there  are  good  grounds  to  believe*  not 
only  that  the  three  Gofpels  of  Matthew,  Mark,  and  Luke, 
where  this  prophecy  is  related,  were  written  and  pubhftied 
before  the  deftruftion  of  Jerufalem,  but  that  the  writers 
of  them  were  all  dead  before  that  event.  It  is  alfo 
well  known,  that  both  St.  Peter,  and  St.  Paul,  who  al- 
lude in  their  Epiflles  to  the  approaching  ruin  of  Jerufalem* 
(which  tliey  learnt  from  our  Lord's  predidtions,)  and  who 
had  i^QW  and  approved  the  Gofpels  of  St.  Mark  dnd  St. 

*  Ails  ii.  19.  1  Pet.  iv.  7.  Phil,  iv-  5.  I  Thefs.  a.  16.  Ncw- 
toa  on  Proph.  v,  %■  p.  225.  Jortin's  Remarks,  vt>l.  i-  p.  49* 


LECTURE    XX.  225 

Xuke,  were  put  to  death  under  Nero,  and  Jerufalem  was 
not  taken  till  the  fucceeding  reign  of  Vefpafian. 

It  fhould  be  obferved  further,  that  although  this  prophe- 
cy is  by  far  the  fulleft,  and  cleareft,  and  moil  diftindt, 
that  our  Lord  delivered  refpeding  the  deftrudlion  of  Jeru- 
falem, he  plainly,  though  briefly  alludes  to  it  in  feveral 
otlier  parts  of  tlie  Gofpels*.  And  thefe  occafional  predic- 
tions of  that  event  are  fo  frequent,  and  fo  perfedly  agree 
with  this  larger  prophecy,  they  are  introduced  fo  incident- 
ally in  the  way  of  parables,  or  in  anfwer  to  fome  queftion  ; 
they  arife,  in  fhort,  fo  naturally  from  the  occafion,  and 
are  fo  inartificially  interwoven  into  the  very  efTence  and 
fubftance  of  the  narrative,  that  they  have  every-  imagina- 
ble appearance  of  having  formed  an  original  part  of  it, 
and  cannot  pofTibly  be  confidered  by  any  good  judge  of 
compofition  as  fubfequent  or  fraudulent  infertionsi 

Indeed  fuch  a  fabrication  as  this  v/ould  have  been  the 
fiilieft  and  moft  ufelefs  fraud  that  can  be  imagined.  For 
it  is  very  remarkable  that  the  facred  writers  make  no  ufe' 
of  this  prophecy  as  a  proof  of  our  Saviour's  divine  pow* 
ers,  or  of  the  truth  of  his  religion.  They  appeal  fre- 
quently to  the  ancient  prophecies  concerning  him,  to  his 
miracles,  and  above  all  to  his  refurredion,  as  evidences 
that  he  was  the  Mefliah,  and  the  Son  of  God  ;  but  tliey 
never  appeal  to  the  accomplifhment  of  this  prophecy  in- 
fupport  of  thofe  great  truths,  though  certainly  a  very  nat- 
ural and  important  proof  to  be  adduced  in  favor  of  them.- 

But  that  which  ought,  with  every  reafonable  man, 
to  be  decifive  of  the  queftion,  is  this,  that  three  of  the 
«vangelifts  out  of  four  concur  in  giving  us  this  prophe- 
cy as  a  part  of  tlieir  hiftory  of  our  Lord,  and  as  actu- 
ally delivered  by  him  at  the  period  afligned  to  it,  which 
we  know  was  nearly  forty  years  before^  the  deftrudion 
of  Jerufalem.  Now  we  have  no  more  reafon  to  doubt 
their  veracity  in  this  point  than  in  any  other ;  and  if,  on 
the  ftrength  of  their  charader,  on  the  evident  marks  of 
integrity,  fimplicity,  and  truth,  which  appear   in  every 

*  Matth.  xxii.  i — 7  j  xxiii,  33— -39.  Luke  six.  41—44  5  *'»»• 
1—5;  &c.  &c. 


326  LECTURE     XX. 

page  of  their  writings ;  and  above  all,  if  in  confequence  o^'^ 
their  undergoing  the  bittereft  fiifferings  as  an  evidence  of: 
their  fmcerity,  we  give  implicit  credit  to  what  they  tell  us 
refpeding  the  Kfe,  the  death,  the  doctrines,  the  miracles, 
and  the  refurr-edion  of  Chrift,  there  is  the  very  fame*- 
reafon  for  admitting  the  genuinenefs  of  this  prophecy.' 
It  ftands  on  the  fame  folid  grounds  of  their  veracity  and 
probity  J  as  the  reft  of  the  Gofpel  does  ;  and  w^hen  men 
lay  down  their  lives,  as  they  did,  in  confirmation  of  what 
they  affeit  they  havse  furely  fome  right  to  be  believed. 

We  may  theu  fafely  confider  this  prophecy  as  an 
unqueftionable  proof  of  the  divine  foreknowledge  of  our. 
Lord,  and  the  divine  authority  of  the  Gofpel  ;  and  on 
this  ground  only  (were  it  neceflary)  we  might  fecurely 
reft  the  whole  fabric  of  our  religion.  Indeed  this  remark- 
able prediiflion  has  always  been  confidered,  by  every 
impartial  perfon,  as  one  of  the  moft  powerful  arguments  in 
favor  of  Chriftianity  ;  and  in  our  own  times,  more  particu- 
larly, a  man  of  diftinguifhed  talents  and  acknowledged 
eminence  in  his  profeflion,  and  in  the  conftant  habit  of 
weighing,  fifting,  and  fcrutinizing  evidence  with  the 
minuteft  accuracy  in  courts  of  juftice,  has  publicly  de- 
clared, that  he  confidered  this  prophecy,  if  there  were 
nothing  elfe  to  fupport  Chriftianity,  as  abfolutely  irrefijiihlc*. 

But  our  Lord's  predictions  refpedling  this  devoted  city 
do  not  end  even  here.  He  not  only  foretels  the  entire- 
deftru6tion  of  Jerufalem,    but  the  continuance  of  its  defo- 

*  See  Mr.  Erflcine's  eloquent  fpeech  at  the  trial  of  Williams,  for 
publifhing  Paine's  Age  of  Reafon  ;  to  which  I  muft  beg  leave  to 
add  the  weighty  and  important  tcftimony  of  that  moft  able  and 
upright  judge,  Lord  Ken^ron,  who,  in  his  charge  to  the  jury  on  the 
fame  ©ccafion  made  this  noble  confession  of  faitu  : 

*'  I  am  fully  impreffed  with  the  great  truths  of  religion,  which, 
thank  God,  I  was  taught  in  my  early  years  to  believe  ;  and  which 
€he  hour  of  refledlion  ar>d  inquiry,  inflead  of  creating  any  doubt,  has 
fully  confirmed  me  in."  How  vain  are  all  the  idle  cavils  of  the  whole 
tribe  of  infidels  put  together,  when  contralled  with  fuch  a  declaration 
as  this  from  fuch  a  man  ! 

Since  this  note  was  written,  the  public  has  to  lament  the  lofs  of  this 
truly  great  man.  But  he  is  now  at  reft  from  his  virtuous  labors  ;  a^d 
he  will  long  be  remembered  and  revered,  not  only  by  ki sown  profeflion, 
but  by  all  defcriptions  of  men,  as  the  firm  friend  and  intrepid  protec- 
tor of  the  laws,  the  conftitution,  the  morals,  and  the  religion  of  this 
country. 


LECTURE     XX.  SST 

Ifttlon  and  fubje<5lion  to  heathens,  and  tlie  difperfion  and 
captivity  of  the  Jews  for  a  long   period  of  time.     For  if 
we  turn  to  the  parallel  place  in  St.  Luke,    we  fhall  find 
him  expreffing  himfelf  in  thefe  words,  refpefting  the  Jews . 
and  their  city  ;  "  tliey  fhall  fall  by  the  edge  of  the  fword,  ■ 
and  fnall  be  led  away  captive  into  all  nations  ;  and  Jeru-. 
falem  fnall  be  trodden  down  of   the  Gentiles,    until  the  • 
times  of  the  Gentiles  be  fulfilled*."     That  is,    not  only; 
vaft  n>umbers  ot  the  Jews  fliall  periih  at  the  fiege  of  Jeru-. 
falem,    partly  by  their  own  feditions,    and  partly  by  the- 
fword  of  the  enemy,  but  multitudes  fliall  alfo  be  made  cap- 
tives, and  be  difperfed  into  all  countries  ;  and  Jerufalem 
iliall  remain  in  a  llate  of  defolation  and  opprefiion,  tram-  • 
pled  upon  and  trodden  down  by  heathen  conquerors  and- 
Yulers,  till  all  the  Gentiles  fhall  be  converted  to  the  faith: 
of   Chrifi,    and  the  Jews  themfelves  ihall  acknowledge 
him  to  be  the  Meffiah,  and  Ihali  be  leftored  to  their  an-- 
cicnt  city.. 

The  former  part  of   this  prophecy  has  been  already 
moH  exactly  fulfilled,    and  is  an  eameft  that  alltherefl: 
will  in  due  time  be  accomplifhed.     The  number  of  Jews: 
flain  during  the  fiege  was  upwards  of  one  million  one  hun- 
dred thoufand,    and  near  three  hundred  thoufand  more- 
were  dellroyed  in  other  places  in  the  couile  of   the  warf . 
Befides  thefe  as  Jofephus  informs  us,  no  lefs  than  ninety- 
feven  thoufand  were  made  captives    and  difpei-fed  into* 
different  countries,    fome  into  Egypt,    fome  to  Casfarea,. 
fome  carried  to  grace  the  triumph  of  Titus  at  Rome,  and. 
the  reft  diftributed  over  the  Roman  provinces^  ; .  and  the 
whole  Jewifh  people  continue  to  this  hour  fcattered  over: 
all  the  nations  of  the  earth* 

With  refpe(5l  to  tlieir  city,  it  has  remained  for  the  nioft; 
part  in  a  ftate  of  ruin  and  defolation,  from  its  deftruftion 
by  the  Romans  to  the  prefent  time  ;  and  has  never  been 
under  the  government  of  the  Jews  themfelves,  but  op- 
preiled  and  broken  down  by  a  fucceffion  of  foreign  maf- 
ters,  the  Romans,  the  Saracens,  the  Franks,  the  Mama- 
lukes,  and  laft  by  tlie  Turks,  to  whom  it  is  flill  fubjed:* 

*  Luke  xxl.  24.  f  BeH.  Jud.  1.  a,  3,  4,  7,  &e. 

t  Jofephus  Bell.  Jud.  1-  vi.  c,  9. 


32S  I.  E  C  T  U  R  E     XX. 

It  is  not  therefore  only  In  the  hiftory  of  Jofephus,  and  in 
other  ancient  writers,  that  we  are  to  look  for  the  accom- 
plifhment  of  our  X»ord*s  predidions  ;  we  fee  them  verified 
at  this  moment  before  our  eyes,  in  the  defolated  ftate  of 
the  once  celebrated  city  and  temple  of  Jerufalem,  and  in 
the  prefent  condition  of  the  Jewifli  people,  not  colledted 
together  into  any  one  country,  into  one  political  fociety,. 
and  under  one  form  of  government,  but  difperfed  over 
every  region  of  the  globe,  and  every  where  treated  with 
contumely  and  fcom. 

There  was  indeed  one  attempt  made  to  rebuild  their 
temple  and  their  city,  and  reftore  them  to  their  ancient 
profperity  and  fplendor.  It  was  made  too  for  the  exprefs 
and  avov/ed  purpofe  of  defeating  that  very  prophecy  we 
have  been  confidering  ;  and  the  event  was  fuch  as  might 
be  expefted  from  the  folly  and  prefumption  of  the  man 
who  dared  to  oppofe  the  defigns  of  Providence,  and  to  fight 
againft  God.  This  man  was  the  emperor  Julian,  who, 
as  you  all  know,  was  firft  a  Chriftian,  then  apoftatized 
from  that  religion,  profefled  himfelf  a  pagan,  and  became 
a  bitter  and  avowed  enemy  to  the  Gofpel.  This  prince 
afJured  the  Jews,  that  if  he  was  fuccefsful  in  the  Perfian 
war,  he  would  rebuild  their  city,  reftore  them  to  their 
habitations,  re-eftablifh  their  government  asid  their  reli- 
gion, and  join  with  them  in  worfhipping  the  great  God 
of  the  univerfe.  He  adually  begun  this  fmgular  enter- 
prize,  by  attempting  to  rebuild  their  temple  with  the  great- 
eft  magnificence.  He  afiigned  immenfe  fums-  for  the  ftruc- 
ture  ;  and  gave  it  in  charge  to  Alypius  of  Antioch,  who 
had  formerly  been  lieutenant  in  Britain,  to  fuperintend  the 
work.  Alypius  exerted  himfelf  with  great  vigour,  and 
was  affifted  in  it  by  the  governor  of  the  province.  But 
foon  after  they  had  begun  the  work,  dreadful  balls  of  fire 
burfting  out  from  the  foundations  in  feveral  parts,  rendered 
the  place  inacceffible  to  the  workmen,  who  were  frequent- 
ly burnt  with  the  flames ;  and  in  this  manner,  the  fiery 
elements  obftinately  repelling  tliem,  forced  them  at  length 
to  abandon  the  defign.  The  account  of  this  extraordinary 
miracle  we  have  not  only  from  ancient  Chriftian  writers 
of  credit,  who  lived  at  the  vej?y  time  when  it  happened, 
but  from  an  heathen  author  of  great  veraclry,  Ammianus 


LECTURE    XX. 

Marcellinus,  who  wrote  the  hiftory  of  Roman  affilrs  froi» 
Nerva  to  the  death  of  Valens,  in  the  year  378.  Though 
he  wrote  in  Latin,  he  was  a  Greek  by  birth.  He  had 
feveral  honorable  military  commands  under  different  em- 
perors ;  was  with  Julian  in  his  Perfian  expedition,  in  the 
year  36 3,  and  was  a  great  admirer  of  that  emperor, 
whom  he  makes  his  hero  ;  yet  acknowledges  that  his 
attempt  to  rebuild  the  temple  of  Jerufalem  was  defeated 
in  the  manner  I  have  mentioned*.  The  fa6t  is  frequently 
appealed  to  by  the  Chriftians  of  thofe  days,  who  affirm 
that  it  was  in  the  mouths  of  all  men,  and  was  not  denied 
even  by  the  atheifts  themfelves  ;  and  "  if  it  feem  yet 
incredible  to  any  one,  he  may  repair  (fay  they)  both  to 
witnefTes  of  it  yet  living,  and  to  them  who  have  heard  it 
from  their  mouths  ;  yea,  they  may  view  the  foundations, 
lying  yet  bare  and  nakedf ."  And  of  this,  fays  Chryf- 
oftom,  all  we  Chriftians  are  witnefTes  ;  thefe  things  being 
done  not  long  fmce  in  our  own  time;]:, 

8uch  are  the  teftimonies  for  this  miracle,  which  are 
colleded  and  ftated  with  great  force  by  the  learned  Biftiop 
VVorburton,  in  his  work  called  Julian  ;  and  moft  of  them 
are  alfo  admitted  by  Mr.  Gibbon,  who,  in  his  recital  of 
this  miracle,  acknowledges  that  it  is  attefted  by  contemporary 
and  refpeBahle  evidence  ;  that  Gregory  Nazianzen,  who  pub- 
liilied  his  account  of  it  before  the  expiration  of  the  fame 
year,  declares  it  was  not  difputed  by  the  infidels  of  thofe 
days,  and  that  his  teftimony  is  confirmed  by  the  unexcep* 
tionalle  tcjiimony  of  Ammianus  Marcellinus  |(. 

I  now  proceed  to  the  explanation  of  the  next  chapter, 
tlie  25th  of  St.  Matthew,  which  begins  with  prefenting 
to  us  two  parables,  that  of  the  ten  virgins,  and  that  of 
the  fervants  of  a  great  Lord  entrufted  with  different 
talents,  of  which  they  are  called  upon  to  render  an  ac- 
count. As  thefe  parables  contain  nothing  that  requires 
a  very  particular  explanation,  I  fhall  content  myfelf  with 
obferving,  that  they  are  defigned  to  carry  on  the  fubjed 

*  Ammianus  Marcellinus,  1.  xxiii.  c  i.  p.  350.  Ed.  Valefil. 
f  Sczomeri-  Hift-  Eccles-  1.  v-  c.  aa.  p.  621-  D-  6t,i-  B. 
\  Chrys.  adv-  Jud.Tos.  Orat.  iii-  p.  436- 
|i   Hiftory  of  the  Roman  Empire,  v-  ii.  p.  388^ 

Y  2 


330  LECTURE     XX. 

with  which  the  preceding  chapter  concludes ;  namely, 
that  of  the  laft  folemn  day  of  retribution ;  and  the  objeft 
of  both  is  to  call  our  attention  to  that  great  event,  and  to- 
warn  us  of  the  neceffity  of  being  always  prepared  for  it. 
Thus  in  the  parable  of  the  ten  virgins,  the  five  that  were 
wife  took  oil  in  their  veiTels  with  their  lamps,  and  when 
the  bridegroom  appeared  they  were  ready  to  receive  him , 
and  went  in  with  him  to  the  marriage.  But  the  five  that 
were  foolifh  took  no  oil  with  them  ;  and  while  they  went  to 
procure  it,  the  bridegroom  unexpeBedly  came,  and  the  door 
was  Jhiit  againft  them.  The  application  is  obvious,  and 
is  given  by  our  Lord  himfelf  in  thefe  words,  "  watch  ye 
therefore,  for  ye  know  neither  the  day  nor  the  hour  when 
the  Lord  cometh." 

In  tlie  fame  manner,  in  the  parable  of  the  talents,  he 
that  had  received  the  five  talents  and  he  that  had  re- 
ceived the  two,  did,  during  the  abfence  of  their  Lord, 
fo  diligently  cultivate  and  fo  confiderably  improve  them, 
that  when  at  length  he  came  to  reckon  with  them,  they 
returned  him  his  own  again  with  ufury,  and  received  both 
applaufe  and  reward  :  while  that  flothful  and  indolent 
fervant,  who  had  received  only  one  talent,  and  inPcead  of 
improving  it  went  and  hid  it  in  the  earth,  when  his  Lord 
came  and  required  it  at  his  hands,  was  feverely  reprimand- 
ed for  his  want  of  activity  and  exertion,  and  was  cafl  out 
as  an  unprofitable  fervant  into  outer  dai^nefs. 

This,  like  the  former  parable,  was  plainly  meant  to 
intimate  to  us  that  we  ought  to  be  ahuays  prepared  to  meet 
our  Lord,  and  to  give  him  a  good  account  of  the  ufe  we 
have  made  of  our  time,  and  of  the  talents,  whether  many 
or  few,  that  were  entrufted  to  our  care. 

After  thefe  admonitory  parables,  and  thefe  earneft 
exhortations  to  prepare  for  the  lad  great  day,  our  blefled 
Lord  is  naturally  led  on  to  a  dcfcription  of  the  day  itfelf ; 
and  it  is  a  defcription  which  for  dignity  and  grandeur  has 
not  its  equal  in  any  writer,  facred  or  profane.  It  is  as 
follows :  «  When  the  i:>on  of  man  fhall  come  in  his  glory, 
and  all  the  holy  angels  with  him,  then  fhall  he  fit  upon  the 
throne  of  his  glory  ;  and  before  him  ihall  be  gath  er«d  ^l 


LECTURE     X±  '^t 

nations ;  and  he  fhall  feparate  them  one  from  another,  asf 
a  fhepherd  divideth  his  Iheep  from  the  goats  :  and  he  (hall 
fet  the  fheep  on  liis  right  hand,  and  the  goats  on  the  lefto- 
Then  fhall  the  King  fay  unto  them  on  his  right  hand, 
Come,  ye  blelfed  of  my  Father,  inherit  the  kingdom 
prepared  for  you  from  the  foundation  of  the  world  ;  for  I 
was  an  hungred,  and  ye  gave  me  meat ;  I  was  thirfty, 
and  ye  gave  me  drink  ;  I  was  a  ftranger,  and  ye  took' 
me  in ;  naked,  and  ye  clothed  me  ;  I  was  fick,  and  ye 
vifited  me  ;  I  was  in  prifon,  and  ye  came  unto  me.  Then- 
fhall  the  righteous  anfwer  him,  faying,  Lord,  when  law 
we  thee  an  hungred,  and  fed  thee  ?  or  thirfty,  and  gave 
thee  drink  ?  When  faw  we  thee  a  ftranger,  iind  took  thee 
hi  ?  or  naked,  and  clothed  thee  ?  or  when  fav/  we  tlie«- 
fick,  or  in  prifon,  and  came  uuto  ihee  ?  And  the  King 
fhall  anfwer  and  fay  unto  them,  Verily  I  fay  unto  you, 
inafmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the  leaft  of  thefe 
my  brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto  me.  Then  fhall  he 
alio  fay  unto  thofe  on  the  left  hand,  Depart  from  me,  ye 
curfed,  into  everlafting  fire  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his 
angels  ;  for  I  was  an  hungred,  and  ye  gave  me  no  meat ; 
I  was  thirfty  and  ye  gave  me  no  drink  ;  I  was  a  ftranger, 
and  ye  took  me  not  in ;  naked  and  ye  clothed  me  not ; 
fick,  and  in  prifon,  and  ye  viftted  me  not.  Then  fhall 
they  anfwer  him,  faying.  Lord,  wlien  faw  we  thee  an 
hungred,  or  athirft,  or  a  ftranger,  or  naked,  or  fick, 
or  in  prifon,  and  did  not  jninifter  unto  thee  ?  Then  fhall 
he  anfwer  them,  faying,  Verily  I  fay  unto  you,  inafmuch 
as  ye  did  it  not  to  one  of  the  leaft  of  thefe,  ye  did  it  not  to 
me.  And  thefe  fnall  go  away  into  everlafting  punifh- 
ment ;  but  the  righteous  into  life  eternal." 

Sach  is  the  defcription  which  our  divine  Mafter  gives 
us  of  the  great  day  of  account ;  and  {o  folemn,  fo  awful, 
fo  fublime  a  fcene,  was  never  before  prefented  to  the  mind 
of  man. 

Our  vSaviour  reprefents  himfelf  as  a  great  and  mighty 
King,  as  the  fupreme  Lord  of  all,  fitting  on  the  throne 
of  his  glory,  with  all  the  nations  of  the  earth  ajfemhled  hefohe 
him^  and  waiting  their  final  doom  from  his  lipe.  What 
;tn  aftonifhing  and  flupendous  fpevSacle  is  this  !  He  theu 


333  LECTURE    XX. 

^t  one  glance,  which  penetrates  the  hearts  of  every  mdU 
vidual  of  that  immenfe  multitude,  difcerns  the  refpeitiyc; 
merits  or  demerits  of  every  human  being  there  prefeut, 
and  feparates  the  good  from  the  bad  v/ith  as  much  eafe  a& 
a  fhepherd  divides  his  Iheep  from  his  goats.  He  next 
queftions  them  on  one  moft  important  branch  of  their  duty, 
as  a  Jpecimen  of  the  manner  in  which  the  inquiry  into  the 
whole  of  their  behaviour  will  be  condu6]:ed  ;  and  theHj 
with  the  authority  of  an  almighty  Judge  and  Sovereign, 
he  in  a  few  words  pronounces  the  irreverfible  fentence, 
which  configns  the  wicked  to  everlafting  puniftiment,  and 
the  righteous  to  life  eternal. 

Before  I  prefs  this  important  fubjedl  any  further  on  the 
hearts  of  thofe  who  hear  me,  I  muft  make  a  few  obferva- 
tions  on  the  defcription  which  has  been  juft  laid  before  you.^ 

The  firft  is,  that  all  mankind,  when  aflembled  before 
the  judgment  feat  of  Chrift,  are  divided  into  two  great 
clalTes,  the  wicked  and  the  good,  thofe  who  are  puniflied, 
and  thofe  who  are  rewarded.  There  Is  no  middle,  no 
intermediate  ftation  provided  for  thofe  who  may  be  called 
neutrals  in  religion,  who  are  indijBferent  and  lukewarm, 
who  are  "  neither  hot  nor  cold,'*  who  do  not  rejed  the 
Gofpel,  but  give  themfelves  very  little  concern  about  it, 
who,  inftead  of  working  out  their  falvation  with  fear  and 
trembling,  leave  that  matter  to  take  care  of  itfelf,  and 
are  at  perfefl  eafe  as  to  tlie  event.  Thefe  men  cannot  cer- 
tainly expeft  to  inherit  everlafting  life.  But  they  hope 
probably  to  be  confidered  as  harmlefs  inofFenfive  beings, 
and  to  be  exempted  from  punifhment  at  leaft,  if  not  enti- 
tled to  reward.  But  how  vain  this  hope  is,  our  Saviour's 
reprefentation  of  the  final  judgment  moft  clearly  Ihows. 
They  who  are  not  fet  on  the  right,  muft  go  to  the  left. 
They  who  are  not  rewarded,  are  configned  to  punilhment* 
There  are  Indeed  diiierent  manfions  both  for  the  righteous 
and  the  wicked  ;  there  are  different  degrees  of  puniftiment 
for  the  one,  and  of  reward  for  the  other  ;  yet  ft  ill  it  does 
not  appear  that  there  is  any  middle  or  intermediate  ftate 
between  punifhment  ?.i\6.  reward. 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E    XX.  S83 

The  next  remark,  and  which  has  fome  affinity  to  the 
laft,  is,  that  we  are  to  be  examined  at  the  bar  of  our 
great  Judge,  not  merely  as  to  our  exemption  from  crimes, 
but  as  to  our  performance  of  good  anions ;  fubftantial 
and  genuine  Chriftian  virtues  are  expedled  at  our  hands. 
It  will  not  be  fufficient  for  us  to  plead  tliat  we  kept  our* 
felves  clear  from  fin,  we  muft  Ihew  that  we  have  exerted 
ourfelves  in  the  faithful  difcharge  of  all  thofe  various  im- 
portant duties  which  the  Gofpel  requires  from  us. 

Laftly,  it  muft  be  obferved,  and  it  is  an  obfervation  of 
the  utmoft  importance,  and  which  I  wifti  to  imprefs  moft 
forcibly  upon  your  minds,  that  although  charity  to  our 
neighbor,  and  indeed  only  one  branch  of  that  compre- 
henfive  duty,  viz.  riberal'ity  to  the  poory  is  here  fpecified, 
as  the  only  Chriftian  virtue,  concerning  which  inquiry  will 
be  made  at  the  day  of  judgment ;  yet  we  muft  not  ima- 
gine that  this  is  the  only  virtue  which  will  be  expetSed  from 
us,  and  that  on  this  alone  will  depend  our  final  falvation. 
Nothing  can  be  more  diftant  from  truth,  or  more  danger- 
ous to  religion,  than  this  opinion.  The  fa6t  is,  that  char- 
ity, or  love  to  man  in  ail  its  extent,  being  tlie  moft  emi- 
nent of  all  the  evangelical  virtues,  being  that  which  Chrift 
has  made  the  very  badge  and  difcriminating  mark  of  his 
religion,  is  here  conftituted  by  him  tlie  reprefentative  of 
all  other  virtues ;  juft  as  Faith  is,  in  various  paiTages  of 
fcripture,  ufed  to  denote  and  reprefent  the  whole  Chriftian 
religion.  Nothing  is  more  common  than  this  fort  of  fig- 
ure (called  a  fynecdoche)  in  profane,  as  well  as  facred 
writers  ;  by  which  a  part,  an  efTential  and  important  part, 
is  made  to  ftand  for  the  whole.  But  that  neitlier  charity 
nor  any  other  fmgle  virtue  can  entitle  us  to  eternal  life,  is 
clear  from  the  whole  tenor  of  the  New  Teftament,  which 
every  where  requires  univerfal  holinefs  of  life.  We  are 
commanded  "  to  ftand  perfed  and  complete  in  all  the  will 
of  God*;"  to  add  to  our  faith  virtue,  and  to  virtue 
knowledge,  and  to  knowledge  temperance,  and  to  tem- 
perance patience,  and  to  patience  godlmefs,  and  to  god- 
linefs  brotherly  kindnefs,  and  to  brotherly  kindnefs  char- 
ityf .     Here  you  fee  that  charity  makes  only  one  in  that 

*  Co)-  iv.  i»-  f  I  Pet-  I-  6- 


^$1,  LECTURE     5CX. 

l^ir^e  afTembla^c  of  virtues,  which  are  required  to  confti- 
tute  the  Chriftian  charafter.  And  fo  far  is  it  from  being 
true,  that  any  fmgle  virtue  will  ^ive  us  admiffion  into  the 
kingdom  of  heaven,  that  St.  James  lavs  down  a  diredtly 
oppofite  doiflrine  ;  namely,  that  if  we  do  not  to  the  bed 
of  our  power  cultivate  e'very  virtue  without  exception,  we 
fliall  be  objefts  of  punifhment,  inftead  of  reward.  "  Who- 
foever,  fays  he,  Ihall  keep  the  whole  law,  and  yet  offend 
in  one  point,  he  is  guilty  of  all."  Nay,  even  if  we  en- 
deavor to  fulfil  all  righteoufnefs,  yet  it  is  not  on  that  right- 
eoufnefs,  but  on  the  merits  of  our  Redeemer,  that  wc 
muft  rely  for  our  acceptance  with  God.  For  the  plain 
doftrine  of  fcripture  is,  that  it  "  is  the  blood  of  Jefo^ 
Chrift  that  cleanfeth  us  from  all  fm*;"  and  that  "  by 
S^race  we  are  faved  through  faith  ;  and  that  not  of  our- 
felves,  it  is  tli^  gift  of  God."  Of  this,  indeed,  no  notice 
is  taken  in  our  Saviour's  defcription  of  the-laft  judgment, 
and  that  for  a  plain  reafon  ;  becaufe  he  had  not  yet  finifli- 
ed  the  gracious  work  of  our  redemption.  He  had  not  yet 
offered  himfelf  up,  upon  the  crofs  as  a  facrifice,  a  propi- 
tiation for  the  fms  of  the  whole  world.  But  after  that 
great  aft  of  mercy  was  performed,  it  is  then  the  uniform 
language  of  the  facred  writers,  "  that  we  are  juftified 
freely  by  tlie  grace  of  God,  through  the  redemption  that  is 
in  Chrift  Jefusf." 

We  muft  therefore  colleft  the  terms  of  our  falvatlon  not 
from  any  one  paffage  of  fcripture,  but  from  tlie  whole 
tenor  of  the  facred  writings  taken  together ;  and  if  we 
judge  by  this  rule,  which  is  the  only  one  that  can  be  fe- 
cureiy  relied  upon,  we  fnall  find  that  nothing  lefs  than  a 
fmcere  and  lively  faith  in  Chrift,  producing  in  us,  as  far 
as  the  infirmity  of  our  nature  will  allow,  unl'verfal  hol'inefs 
of  lifoi  can  ever  make  our  final  calling  and  eleftion  ture. 
But  thus  much  we  may  certainly  colledt  from  our  Lord^s 
reprefentation  of  our  final  judgment,  that  charity,  or 
love  to  man,  in  the  true  fcriptural  fenfe  of  that  word,  is 
one  of  the  mofl  effential  duties  of  our  religion ;  and  that 
to  negieft  that  virtue,  above  all  others,  which  our  Re- 
deemer and  our  Judge  has  felcdted  as  the  peculiar  objeft 

•   I  JoJin,  I.  7.     Ephes   ii.  8.  f  Rom-  iii-  14- 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E     XX.  335 

t)f  his  approbation,  and  as  the  reprefentatlve  of  all  the 
other  evangelical  virtues,  muft  be  peculiarly  dangerous, 
and  render  us  peculiarly  unfit  to  appear  at  the  lall  day  be- 
fore the  great  tribunal  cf  Chrift. 

How  foon  we  may  be  fummoned  there,  no  one  can  tell. 
The  final  diffolution  of  this  earthly  fyilem  may  be  at  a 
great  diftance  ;  but  what  is  the  fame  thing  to  every  moral 
and  religious  purpofe,  death  may  be  very  near.  It  is  at 
leaft  even  to  the  younger?:  of  us  uncertain,  and  in  what- 
ever ftate  it  overtakes  us,  in  that  ftate  will  judgment  find 
us  ;  for  there  is  no  repentance  in  the  grave,  and  as  we  die 
fo  Ihall  we  ft  and  before  our  Almighty  Judge.  "  Take 
heed  therefore  to  yourfelves,  left  at  any  time  your  hearts 
be  overcharged  with  furfeiting,  and  drunkennefs,  and  the 
cares  of  this  life,  and  fo  that  day  come  upon  you  unawares. 
For  as  a  fnare  fhall  it  come  upon  all  them  that  dwell  on 
the  face  of  the  earth.  Watch  ye  therefore,  and  pray  al- 
ways, tliat  ye  may  be  accounted  worthy  to  efcape  all  thefe 
things  that  fhall  come  upon  you,  and  to  ftand  before  the 
Son  of  man*." 


•^••<"<-<  •^••<<-'<-^-<-«"<"<'<'<"<"<-<-<-<-<"<"^"».  >•»••>•>•>>••>••>••>■•>">►>••>■•>••>..>.>.>..>» 


LECTURE     XXL 


MATTHEW  xxvL 

Y  ▼  E  are  now  approaching  the  laft  fad  fcene 
©f  our  Saviour's  life,  which  commences  with  the  26th 
chapter,  and  continues  in  a  progreffive  accumulation  of 
one  mifery  upon  another  to  the  end  of  St.  Matthew's 
Gofpel. 

The  26th  chapter,  which  will  be  the  fubjeft  of  the 
prefent  Leflure,  begins  with  informing  us  that  two  days 
before  the  great  Feaft  of  the  Paffover,  the  chief  priefts, 
and  the  fcribes  and  the  elders  of  the  people  afTembled  to- 
gether unto  the  palace  of  the  high  prieft,  who  was  called 
Caiaphas,  and  confulted  that  they  might  take  Jefus  by 
fubtilty  and  kill  him. 

Whilft  they  were  thus  employed,  Jefus  himfelf  was  in 
Bethany  (a  fmall  village  near  Jerufalem)  at  the  houfe  of  a 
perfon  called  Simon,  whom  he  had  cured  of  a  leprofy  ; 
and  here  an  incident  took  place  which  marks  at  once  the 
manners  of  the  country  and  the  times,  and  places  in  a 
ilriking  point  of  view  the  different  characters  of  the  fev- 
eral  perfons  concerned  in  it. 

"  As  Jefus  was  fitting  at  meat  in  the  houfe  above  men- 
tioned, there  came  unto  him  a  woman,  having  an  alabaf- 
ter  box  of  very  precious  ointment,  and  poured  it  on  his 
head.  But  when  his  difciples  faw  it,  they  had  indigna- 
tion, faying,  to  what  purpofe  is  this  wafte  ?  For  tliis  oint- 
ment might  have  been  fold  for  much,  and  given  to  the 
poor.  When  Jefiis  underftood  it,  he  faid  unto  them,  why 
trouble  ye  the  woman,  for  fhe  hath  wrought  a  good  work 
upon  me  ?  For  ye  have  the  poor  always  with  you,  but  me 
ye  have  not  always.     For  in  that  flie  hath  poured  this  oint- 

Z 


!338  LECTURE     XXI. 

jnent  on  my  body,  fhe  did  it  for  my  burial.  Verily  I  fay 
unto  you,  v/herefoever  this  Gofpel  fliall  be  preached  in  the 
whole  world,  there  alfo  fhall  this  which  this  woman  hath 
^one  be  told  for  a  memorial  of  her." 

There  are  in  this  little  ftory  feveral  circumftances  that 
fleferve  our  notice. 

The  firft  is,  that  the  a(5l  here  mentioned  of  pouring  the 
ointment  on  the  head  of  Jefus,  though  it  may  appear 
Grange  to  us,  yet  was  perfe<51:ly  conformable  to  the  cuftoms 
of  ancient  times,  not  only  in  Afia,  but  in  the  more  pol- 
ifhed  parts  of  Europe.  Chaplets  of  flowers  and  odorifer- 
ous unguents  are  mentioned  by  feveral  claffic  authors,  as  in 
ufe  at  the  feftive  entertainments  both  of  the  Greeks  and 
Romans,  and  particularly  among  the  Jews,  the  cuftom  of 
anointing  the  head  feems  to  have  been  almoft  as  common  a 
pra6lice  as  that  of  wafhing  the  face.  For  tliey  are  men- 
tioned together  by  our  Lord  in  his  direction  to  his  difciples 
on  the  fabjedt  of  falling.  "  But  thou,  when  thou  fafteft, 
anoint  thine  head,  and  wafh  thy  face,  that  thou  appear 
not  unto  men  to  fall,  but  unto  thy  Father  which  feeth  in 
fecret*." 

But  there  was  a  much  higher  purpofe  to  which  the  effu- 
fion  of  ointment  on  the  head  was  applied  to  the  Jews.— 
It  was  by  this  ceremony  that  Kings,  Priefts,  and  Prophets, 
were  fet  apart  and  confecrated  to  their  refpeftive  offices. — 
And  for  this  reafon  it  was  that  our  blefTed  Lord  himfelf, 
who  united  in  his  own  perfon  the  thieefold  charad:er  of 
King,  Priell,  and  Prophet,  was  diftinguifhed  by  the  name 
of  the  Messiah,  v«^hich  in  the  Hebrew  language  means 
THE  ANOINTED.  It  was  therefore  with  peculiar  propriety 
that  this  difcriminating  mark  of  refpedt  was  fhewn  to  Je- 
fus by  the  devout  woman  here  mentioned,  though  fhe  her- 
felf  was  probably  altogetlier  unconfcious  of  that  proprie- 
ty. Jefus  however  faw  at  once  the  piety  of  her  heart, 
and  the  purity  of  her  intentions,  and  with  that  fweetnefs 
of  temper,  and  urbanity  of  manners  which  were  natural 
to  him,  not  only  accepted  her  humble  offering  with  com* 

^  Matth.  vi.  17. 


LECTURE    XXI.  S39 

^lacency,  but  generoufly  defended  her  againfl  the  illiberal 
cavils  of  his  faftidious  followers.  And  then  he  added  a 
promife  of  that  diftinguifhed  honor  which  fliould  perpetu- 
ate this  meritorious  a<5t  of  her's  to  all  future  ages.  "  Ver- 
ily 1  fay  unto  you,  that  wherefoever  this  Gofpel  fhall  be 
preached  in  the  whole  world,  there  fhall  alfo  this  that  this 
woman  hath  done  be  told  for  a  memorial  of  her.'*  This 
we  know  was  no  vain  prediftion  ;  it  has  been  moft  literally 
and  pundually  fulfilled,  and  we  ourfelves  are  witneffes  of 
its  completion  at  this  very  moment. 

The  next  remarkable  occuirence  in  this  chapter,  Is  the 
inftitution  of  the  Sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper  by  our 
Saviour,  when  he  was  eating  the  paffover  with  his  dif- 
ciples. 

The  paffover  was  one  of  the  moft  folemn  and  facred 
feafts  of  the  Jews.  It  was  fo  called  becaufe  it  was  eftab- 
liihed  in  commemoration  of  the  deliverance  of  the  Jews 
from  their  bondage  in  Egypt,  at  which  time  the  deftroy- 
ing  angel,  when  he  put  to  death  the  firft-bom  of  the 
Egyptians,  pajfed  over  the  houfes  of  the  Ifraelites,  which 
were  all  markedwith  the  blood  of  the  lamb  that  had  been 
killed  and  eaten  the  evening  before  in  every  Hebrew  houfe, 
and  was  therefore  called  the  Pafchal  Lamb, 

This  great  feftival  our  Saviour  obferved  with  his  difci- 
ples,  the  evening  before  he  fuffered,  and  with  them  ate 
the  pafchal  lamb,  which  was  a  prophetic  type  of  himfelf. 
For  he  was  the  real  pafchal  lamb  that  was  facrificed  for  the 
fins  of  men.  He  was  the  lamb  flain  from  the  foundation 
of  the  world*. 

The  lamb  without  blemlfli  and  without  fpotf ,  as  the 
pafchal  lamb  was  ordered  to  be:|:.  There  can  be  no  doubt 
therefore  that  the  pafchal  lamb  of  the  Jews  was  meant  to 
be  an  emblem  of  our  Lord.  The  flaying  of  that  lamb 
prefigured  the  flaying  of  Chrift  upon  the  crofs  ;  and  as 
thofe  houfes  which  were  fprinkled  with  the  blood  of  the 
•lamb  were  paffed  over  by  the  deftroying  angel,  fo  they  whofe 

*  Rev.  xiij.  8-  f  I  Pet  i-  19.  «<(  Ex.  xli-  5. 


:340  LECTURE     XXL 

fouls  are  fprlnkled  with  the  blood  of  Chrhl  are  faved  from 
deilruiftion,  and  their  fins  pajfed  o'ver  and  forgiven  for  his" 
fake.  And  it  is  a  very  remarkable  circumftance,  that  our 
Saviour  was  crucified,  and  our  deliverance  from  the  bon- 
dage of  fin  compleated,  in  the  fame  month,  and  on  the 
fame  day  of  the  month,  that  the  Ifraelites  were  delivered 
from  the  bondage  of  Egypt,  by  their  departure  from  that 
land.  For  the  Ifraelites  Vv^ent  out  of  Egypt,  and  Chrift 
^■3iS  put  to  death,  on  the  fifteenth  day  of  the  month 
"Nifan. 

I  have  premifed  thus  much  refpefling  the  paffover  and 
the  pafchal  lamb,  becaufe  it  will  throw  confiderable  light 
on  the  true  nature  and  meaning  of  the  facrament  of  the 
Lord's  Supper,  Vv^hich  Jefus  now  inftituted,  and  of  which  the 
evangelift  gives  the  following  account :  "  When  the  even 
was  come,  our  Lord  fat  dov/n  with  the  twelve  to  eat  the 
paflbver  ;  and  as  they  were  eating,  Jefus  took  bread,  and 
bleffed  it,  and  brake  it,  and  gave  it  to  his  difciples,  and 
faid.  Take,  eat ;  this  is  my  body.  And  he  took  the  cup» 
and  gave  thanks,  and  gave  it  to  them,  faying.  Drink  ye 
all  of  it :  for  this  is  my  blood  of  the  New  Teftament, 
which  is  fhed  for  many  for  the  rem.iffion  of  fms."  This 
is  the  whole  of  the  inftitution  of  this  facred  rite  by  our 
bleifed  Lord,  as  recorded  in  St.  Matthew's  Gofpel ;  and 
nothing  can  be  more  evident  than  that  w-hen  he  brake  the 
bread,  and  gave  it  to  his  difciples,  and  faid,  Take,  eat, 
this  is  my  body  ;  he  meant  to  fay  that  the  bread  was  ta 
reprefent  his  body,  and  the  breaking  of  it  was  to  reprefent 
the  breaking  of  his  body  upon  the  crofs.  In  the  fame 
manner  when  he  took  the  cup  and  gave  thanks,  and  gave 
it  to  them,  faying,  "  Drink  ye  all  of  it,  for  this  is  my 
blood  of  the  New  Teftament  (or  New  Covenant)  which 
is  fhed  for  many,  for  the  remifiion  of  fins  ;"  his  meaning 
was,  that  the  wHne  in  the  cup  was  to  be  a  reprefentation 
of  his  blood  that  was  fhed  upon  the  crofs  as  an  expiation 
and  atonement  for  die  fins  of  the  whole  world.  And  his 
difciples  v/ere  to  eat  the  bread  and  drink  the  wine  fo  con- 
fecrated,  and  fo  appropriated  to  this  particular  piirpofe, 
in  grateful  remembrance  of  what  our  Lord  fuffered  for 
their  falvation,  and  that  of  all  mankind ;  for  St.  Luke 
adds  thefe  affeftmg  and  impreffive  v/ords  of  our  Saviour, 
this  do  in  remnnlrancs  of  mc. 


LECTURE     XXL  34.1 

The  Lord's  Supper  therefore  was  evidently  to  be  a  fol- 
emn  commemoration  and  recognition  of  the  redemption 
and  deliverance  of  mankind  by  the  death  of  Chrift,  as 
the  feaft  of  the  pafTover  was  of  the  deliverance  of  the  If- 
raelites  from  the  deftroying  angel.  Nor  is  this  all ;  for  as 
the  Jews  were  accuftomed  in  their  peace  offerings  to  eat 
a  part  of  the  vidtim,  and  thus  partook  of  the  facrifice  ; 
fo  they  would  perceive  that  in  this  ne^ju  inftitution,  the  eat- ' 
ing  of  the  bread  and  drinking  of  the  wine  was  a  mark 
and  fymbol  of  their  participating  in  the  effe<5ls  of  this  ne'^jj 
peace  offering,  the  death  of  Chriil ;  v^^hofe  body  was  bro- 
ken, and  whofe  blood  was  fhed  for  them  on  the  crofs. 

They  would  alfo  fee  that  this  fupper  of  our  Lord  was 
from  that  time  to  be  fubftltuted  in  the  room  of  the  paiTo- 
ver ;  and  that  tliey  might  have  no  doubt  on  this  head,  our 
Lord  exprefsly  declares  that  this  was  to  be  the  cafe  ;  for 
immediately  after  the  inftitution  of  this  facrament  he  adds, 
"  I  fay  unto  you,  I  will  not  drink  henceforth  of  this  fruit 
of  the  vine,  until  that  day  when  I  drink  it  ne^uu  with  you 
in  my  Father's  kingdom."  The  meaning  is,  this  is  the 
iafl  time  that  this  fupper  fhall  be  a  reprefentation  of  the 
paffover.  It  fhall  hereafter  take  a  nenx/  fignification.. 
When  my  kingdom  (that  is,  my  religion)  is  fully  confirm- 
ed and  eftabliihed  by  my  rifmg  from  the  dead,  this  fupper 
fhall  be  the  memorial  of  a  more  noble  facrifice.  The  paff- 
over, which  was  a  type  of  the  redemption  to  be  vv'rought 
by  me,  fhall  be  fulfilled  and  completed  by  my  death  and 
refurreftion.  The  fhadow  paffes  away ;  tlie  fubflance 
takes  place  ;  and  when  you  eat  this  fupper  in  remembrance 
of  me,  there  will  I  be  virtually  prefent  amongft  you  ;  and 
your  fouls  fhall  be  nourifned  and  refrefhed  by  my  grace,- 
as  your  bodies  are  by  the  bread  and  wine. 

You  will  perceive,  by  what  I  have  here  faid  on  the  Sac- 
rament of  the  Lord's  Supper,  that  1  have  confined  myfelf 
to  that  which  was  immediately  before  me,  the  original  in- 
ilitution  of  it  by  our  bleffed  Lord.  I  have  not  entered  in- 
to thofe  further  illuftrations  of  this  holy  rite,  which  are 
prefented  to  us  in  other  parts  of  fcripture  ;  particularly  in 
the  11th  chapter  of  the  Firft  Epiftle  to  the  Corinthians. 
To  go  at  length  into  the  confideration  of  this  important 


S*^  LECTURE     XXI. 

fubje<ft,  would  lead  me  into  a  much  longer  difcuffion  tliatt 
the  nature  of  this  difcourfe  v,7ill  admit.  I  fhall  thereforef 
only  obferve  further,  that  whoever  reads  with  attention  this 
£rll  inftitution  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  whoever  refle6ls  that 
k  was  the  very  laft  meal  that  our  Lord  ate  with  his  difciples 
that  the  next  day  he  underwent  for  our  fakes  a  moft  excru- 
ciating and  ignominious  death,  and  that  he  requires  us  to 
receive  this  facrament  in  remembrance  of  him  ;  whoever,  I 
fay,  can,  notwithftanding  all  this,  difobey  the  laft  com- 
mand of  his  dying  Redeemer,  muft  be  deftitute,  not  only 
of  all  the  devout  fentiments  of  a  Chriftian,  but  of  all  the 
Jioneft  feelings  of  a  man. 

After  having  thus  kept  the  pafTover  for  the  laft  time, 
our  Lord  and  his  apoftles  fung  a  hymn,  as  was  ufual  with 
the  Jews  after  their  repafts ;  and  the  hymn  they  fung  on 
this  occafion  was  probably  what  they  called  the  Pafchal 
PJalmsy  from  the  113th  to  the  118th,  in  which  the  difci- 
ples, accuftomed  to  that  recital,    readily  joined.     They 
then  went  out  into  the  mount  of  Olives ;  and  as  they  were 
going,    Jefus  faith  unto  them,    "  All  ye  fhall  be  offended 
becaufe  of  me  this  night :    for  it  is  written,    I  will  fmite. 
the  Ihepherd,  and  the  fheep  of  the  ilock  fhall  be  fcattered 
abroad.     But  after  I  am  rifen  again,  I  will  go  before  you 
into  Galilee.''     This  was  a  prophetic  warning  to  the  dif- 
ciples,   that   they  would  all  be  terrified  by  the  dangers 
that  awaited  him,  and  would  defert  and  virtually  renounce 
him  that  very  night.     The  v/ords  here  quoted,    "  I  will 
fmite  the  fhepherd,    and  the  fheep  of   the  flock  fhall  be 
fcattered   abroad,"    are    from  the   thirteenth  chapter  of 
Zechariah.     But  to  confole  and  fupport  them  under  this 
trial,  our  Lord  afTures  them  that  he  would  rife  again  from 
the  dead,  and  after  his  refurre<51:ion  he  would  meet  them 
at  a  certain  place  he  appointed  in  Galilee.     The  apoftles, 
as  Ave  may  eafily  imagine,    were  greatly  hurt  at  this  ad- 
monitory prediction  of  our  Lord,  and  protefted  that  they 
would  never  fcrfake  him.      But  St.  Peter  more  particular- 
ly, who,    from  the  ardour  of  his  difpofition,  was  always 
more  forward  in  his  profeffions,    and  more  indignant   at 
the  flighteft  refledlion  on  his  charader,  than  any  of  the 
reft,    immediately  cried  out  with  warmth  and  eagemefs, 
<*  Though  all  men  Ihould  be  offended  becaufe  of  thee,  yet 


LECTURE     XXL      '  345 

will  I  neiier  be  offended.''  But  Jelus,  who  knew  him  much 
better  than  he  did  himfelf,  faid  unto  him  "  Verily  I  fay 
unto  you,  that  this  night  before  the  cock  crow  (that  is, 
before  three  in  the  morning)  thou  fhalt  deny  me  thrice." 
Peter,  ftill  confident  of  his  own  integrity  and  nncere 
attachment  to  his  divine  Mafter,  and  ignorant  of  the 
weaknefs  of  human  nature  at  the  approach  of  danger, 
replied,  with  ftill  greater  vehemence,  "  Though  I  fhould 
die  with  thee,  yet  will  I  not  deny  thee ;"  and  the  reft  of 
the  difclples  joined  with  him  in  thefe  eameft  proteftations 
of  inviolable  fidelity.  How  far  they  were  verified  by  the 
event  we  fhall  foon  fee. 

We  are  now  arrived  at  a  very  awful  and  fomewhat 
myfterious  part  of  our  Saviour's  hiftory,  his  agony  in  the 
garden,  which  is  next  related  to  us  by  St.  Mattliew. 

"  Then  cometh  Jefus,  fays  the  evangelift,  with  them 
to  a  place  called  Gethfemane,  a  rich  valley  near  the  mount 
of  Olives,  through  which  ran  the  brook  Cedron,  and  on 
this  fide  was  a  garden,  into  which  Jefus  entered.  And 
he  faid  unto  his  difciples.  Sit  ye  here  (at  the  entrance 
probably  of  the  garden)  while  I  go  and  pray  yonder. 
And  he  took  with  him,  into  a  more  retired  part  of  the 
garden,  Peter,  and  the  two  fons  of  Zebedee,  James 
and  John,  the  very  fame  difciples  who  accompanied  him 
at  his  transfiguration ;  that  they  who  had  been  witnefFes 
of  his  glory  might  be  witnelFes  alfo  of  his  humiliation  and 
afflidion.  Then  faith  he  unto  them,  My  foul  is  exceeding 
forrowful,  even  unto  death  :  tarry  ye  here,  and  watch 
with  me.  And  he  went  a  little  farther,  and  fell  on  his 
face,  and  prayed,  faying,  O  my  Father,  if  it  be  poflible 
(that  is,  if  it  be  poflible  for  man  to  be  faved,  and  thy 
glory  promoted  as  effectually  in  any  other  way  as  by  my 
death)  let  this  cup,  this  bitter  cup  of  afilidion,  pafs  from 
me ;  neverthelefs,  not  as  I  will,  but  as  thou  wilt.  And 
he  cometh  unto  his  difciples,  and  findeth  them  afleep,  and 
faith  unto  Peter,  What,  could  ye  not  watch  with  me  one 
hour  ?  you  who  fo  lately  made  fuch  vehement  profeflions^ 
of  attachment  to  me  !  Watch  and  pray,  that  ye  enter  not 
into  temptation."  Ye  have  need  to  watch  and  pray  for 
your  own  fakes,    as  well  as  mine,  that  you  may  not  be 


344-  LECTURE     XXL 

overcome  by  the  fevere  trials  that  await  you,  nor  be 
tempted  to  defert  me.  Yet  at  the  fame  moment,  feeling 
for  the  infirmity- of  human  nature,  he  adds,  "  the  fpirit 
indeed  is  vv-illing,  but  the  flefh  is  weak."  That  is,  I 
know  your  hearts  are  right,  and  your  intentions  good  i 
but  the  weaknefs  of  your  frail  nature  overpowers  your 
beft  refolutions,  "  and  the  thing  which  ye  would  ye  do 
not."  "  He  went  away  again  the  fecond  time,  and 
prayed,  faying,  O  my  Father,  if  this  cup  may  not  pafs 
away  fromm^e,  except  I  drink  it,  thy  will  be  done.  And 
he  came  and  found  them  alleep  again,  for  their  eyes  were 
heavy.  And  he  left  them,  and  went  away  again,  and 
prayed  the  third  time,  faying  the  fame  words.  Then 
coraeth  he  to  his  difciples,  and  faith  unto  them,  Sleep  on 
now  and  take  your  reft :  behold,  the  hour  is  at  handj 
and  the  Son  of  man  is  betrayed  into  the  hands  of  fmners. 
Rife,  let  us  be  going  :  behold,  he  is  at  hand  that  doth 
betray  me."  That  is,  henceforth,  hereafter  (for  fo  the 
original  ftridlly  means)  you  may  take  your  reft ;  your 
watching  can  be  of  no  further  ufe  to  me  :  my  trial  is  over, 
my  ag^ony  is  fubdued,  and  my  deftiny  determined.  I 
fhall  foon  be  betrayed  into  the  hands  of  fmners.  Arife, 
therefore,  let  us  go  and  meet  this 'danger.  Behold,  he 
that  betrayeth  me  is  at  hand. 

This  is  the  account  given  us  of  what  is  called  our 
Saviour's  agony  in  the  garden  ;  in  the  nature  and  cir- 
cumftances  of  which  there  is  certainly  fomething  "  difE- 
cult  to  be  underftood  ;"  but  it  is  at  the  fame  time  pregnant 
with  inftrudion  and  confolation  to  every  difciple  of  Chrift. 

We  may  obferve  in  the  firft  place  that  the  terror  and 
diftrefs  of  our  Lord's  mind  on  this  occafion  feems  to  have 
been  extreme,  and  the  agony  he  endured  in  the  higheft 
degree  poignant  and  acute.  He  is  faid  here  to  be  "  ex- 
ceeding forrowful,  even  unto  deatli.'  St.  Mark  adds, 
that  he  was  *'  fore  amazed  and  very  heavy* ;"  and  St. 
Luke  tells  us,  that  "  being  in  agony  he  prayed  more 
eameftly  -,  and  his  fweat  was  as  it  were  great  drops  of 
blood  falling  down  to  the  groundf ."     To   v>^hat  caufe 

*  Ch.  x'y.  33-  -f-  Ch.  xxli.   44 


LECTURE    XXL  34^ 

could  thefe  uncommonly  painful  fem'ations  be  owing  ? 
There  is  great  reafon  to  believe  that  they  could  not  arife 
folely  from  the  fear  of  death,  or  of  the  torments  and  the 
ignominy  he  was  about  to  undergo  5  for  many  great  and 
good  m.en,  many  of  the  primitive  martyrs  for  inftance>. 
and  of  our  firft  reformers,  have  met  death  and  tortures 
without  feeling,^  at  ieaft  without  expreffing,  fuch  exceilive 
terrors  of  mind  as  thefe. 

But  it  fhould  be  confidered,  that  befides  the  apprehen- 
fions  of  a  death  in  the  higheft  degree  excruciating  and 
difgraceful,  to  which  in  his  human  nature  he  would  be- 
as  liable  as  any  other  perfon,  there  were  feveral  circum- 
iiances  peculiar  to  hlmfelf,  which  might  exceedingly  em- 
bitter his  feelings  and  exafperate  his  fufferings. 

In  the  firfl  place,  from  tlie  foreknowledge  of  every 
thing  that  could  befal  him,  he  would  have  a  quicker 
fenfe  and  a  keener  perception  of  the  torments  he  was  to 
undergo,  than  any  other  perfon  could  poffibly  have,  from 
the  anticipation  of  future  fufferings. 

In  the  next  place,  the  complicated  miferies  which  he 
knew  that  his  death  would  bring  upon  his  country,  for 
which  he  manifeiled  the  tendereft  concern ;  the  diftrefs  in 
which  it  would  plunge  a  mother  and  a  friend  that  were 
infinitely  dear  to  him  ;  and  the  cruel  perfecutions  and 
afflidtions  of  various  kinds,  to  which  he  forefaw  that  the 
firft  propagation  of  his  religion  w-ould  expofe  his  beloved 
difciples  ;•  all  thefe  confiderations  operating  on  a  mind  of 
fuch  exquifite  fenfibility  as  his,  muft  make  a  deep  and 
painful  imprefTion,  and  add  many  a  bitter  pang  to  the  an- 
guifh,  which  preyed  upon  his  foul.  Nor  is  it  at  all  im- 
probable, that  his  great  enemy  and  ours,  the  prince  of 
darknefs,  whom  he  came  to  overthrow,  and  with  whom 
he  maintained  a  conftant  confiift  through  life,  and  tri- 
umphed over  by  his  death  ;  it  is  not  I  fay,  at  all  improb- 
able, that  this  malignant  Being  fhould  exert  his  utmofl 
power,  by  prefenting  real  and  raifmg  up  imaginary  ter- 
rors, to  ihake  the  conftancy  of  his  foul,  and  deter  him 
from  the  great  work  he  had  undertaken.  Thefe,  and  a. 
multitude  of  other  agonizing  diftrefles,  unknown  and  in- 
Z  2 


346  LECTURE     XXI. 

conceivable  to  us,  which  might  neceflarily  fpring  from  fo 
vaft,  {o  momentous,  fo  ftupendous  a  work,  as  the  falva- 
tion  of  a  whole  world,  make  a  plain  diftindlion  between 
our  Saviour's  fituation  and  that  of  any  other  martyr  to  the 
caufe  of  truth,  and  moft  clearly  prove  that  there  never 
was  "  a  forrow  in  every  refpedt  like  unto  his  forrow*."  It 
is  evident,  indeed,  that  there  was  fome  other  caufe  of  his 
agony  befides  that  of  his  approaching  death  :  for  it  is 
faid  in  the  Epillle  to  the  Hebrews,  that  he  was  heard  in 
that  hefeared\  ;  that  is,  was  delivered  from  the  terrors  that 
oppreffed  him  ;  and  yet  we  know  he  was  noi  delivered 
from  the  dsafh  of  the  crofs. 

And  it  fliould  be  obferved  in  the  laft  place,  that  not- 
withflanding  his  temporary  agonies  of  mind,  notwith- 
ilanding  he  was  "  fore  amazed  and  exceeding  forrow- 
ful,  even  unto  death  ;"  notwithftanding  he  prayed  moft 
eameftly  and  fervently  "  that  the  bitter  cup  of  afflidtion 
might,  if  poffible,  pafs  away  from  him  ;"  yet,  upon  the 
final  refult,  he  manifefted  the  utmoft  firmnefs  and  fortitude 
of  foul :  and  the  conftant  termination  of  his  prayer  was, 
not  my  'will  but  thine  be  done.  He  fubmitted  with  the  moft 
perfe(5t  refignation  to  thofe  very  calamities  which  he  felt  fo 
acutely,  and  deprecated  fo  eameftly  ;  and  went  out  from 
the  garden  to  meet  the  dangers  that  approached  him  with 
that  noble  and  dignified  addrefs  to  his  {lumbering  difciples, 
**  Rife,  let  us  be  going  ;  behold,  he  is  at  hand  that  doth 
betray  me."  It  is  evident  then  that  this  remarkable  inci- 
dent in  the  hiftory  of  our  Lord,  which  has  given  occafion 
to  fo  much  unfounded  and  idle  cavil,  inftead  of  lowering 
his  character  in  the  flighteft  degree,  adds  frefti  luftre  to  it, 
and  encreafes  our  veneration  for  his  exalted  virtues. 

And  what  is  of  no  lefs  importance,  it  prefents  to  us  in- 
ftrudtions  the  moft  edifying,  and  reflections  the  moft  con- 
folatory  to  the  weaknefs  of  our  nature. 

We  fee  in  the  firft  place,  that  our  Lord  did  not  pretend 
to  that  unfeeling  heroifm,  that  total  infenfibility  to  pain 
and  afflidion,  which  fome  of  the  ancient  philofophers  af- 

*  Lam.  i.  12-  f  Heb,  v.  7. 


LECTURE     XXI.  347 

fedled.  On  the  contrary.  In  his  human  nature  he  felt  like- 
a  man  ;  he  felt  the  weight  of  his  ov.ti  forrows,  and  dropt 
the  tear  of  fympathy  for  thofe  of  others.  To  tliofe,  there* 
fore,  who  -are  opprefled  and  bowed  down  (as  the  beft  of 
men  fometimes  are)  with  a  loa.d  of  grief,  who  find,  as  the 
Pfalmift  exprefles  it,  "  their  flefli  and  their  heart  failing," 
and  their  fpirits  finking  within  them,  it  muft  be  a  moft  re* 
viving  confideration  to  refle6t  that  in  this  ftate  even  of  ex- 
treme depreffion,  there  is  no  guilt ;  that  it  is  no  mark  of 
God's  difpleafure  ;  that  even  his  beloved  Son  was  no  ftran- 
ger  to  it ;  that  he  was.  a  man  of  forrows,  and  well  ac- 
quainted with  grief ;  that  therefore  he  is  not  a  hard,  un- 
feeling obdurate  mafter,  who  cannot  be  touched  with  our 
infirmities,  but  one  who  was  in  all  things  tried  and  afilidl- 
ed  as  we  are,  yet  without  fm."  He  knows  what  forrow 
is  ;  he  knows  how  hard  it  fometimes  prefTes  even  on  the 
firmeft  minds  ;  and  he  will  not  fail  to  extend  that  relief  to 
others,  for  which  even  he  himfelf  applied  with  fo  much- 
fervency  to  the  Father  of  alL 

From  his  example  too,  on  this  occafion,  we  learn  what 
condu<5t  we  ought  to  obferve  when  diftrefs  and  mifery  over- 
take us.  We  are  not  only  allowed  but  encouraged  by 
what  he  did,  to  put  up  our  petitions  to  the  Throne  of  grace, 
for  help  in  time  of  need.  We  are  permitted  to  pray  for 
the  removal  of  our  calamities  with  eameftnefs  and  with 
fervour ;  we  may  implore  the  Almighty  that  tlie  bitter  cup 
of  affliction  may  pafs  away  from  us  ;  but  the  conclufion 
muft  always  be  (what  his  was)  "  not  my  will,  O  my  Father, 
but  thine  be  done."  And  one  thing  we  may  be  aflured  of, 
that  if  the  evils  which  overwhelm  us  are  not  removed,  yet 
our  fupplications  (hall  not  be  in  vain  ;  we  fhall  at  the  leaft 
be  enabled  to  bear  them.  And  though  we  muft  not  ex- 
pedl:  to  have  an  angel  fent  from  heaven  to  fupport  us,  as 
was  done  to  Jefus  ;  yet  we  may  exped,  and  expedt  with 
confidence,  that  a  more  than  angelic  comforter,  even  tlie 
Spirit  of  God,  will  fhed  his  healing  influence  over  our 
fouls,  and  preferve  us  from  finking  even  under  the  fever- 
eft  trials. 

And  there  is  ftill  one  further  leftbn  of  no  fmall  import-^ 
ance,  which  this  part  of  cur  Saviour's  hiftory  may  teach 
us. 


848  LECTURE     XXI. 

Extreme  affliftlon,  as  we  all  but  too  well  know,  has  a. 
natural  tendency,  not  only  to  deprefs  our  fpirits,  but  to 
four  our  tempers,  and  to  render  us  fretful  and  irritable, 
and  fevere  towards  the  failings  of  others.  But  how  did  it 
operate  on  our  ble/Ted  Lord  ?  Inftead  of  injuring,  it  feem- 
ed  rather  to  improve  the  heavenly  mildnefs  of  his  difpofi- 
tion,  and  to  make  him  more  indulgent  to  the  fiilings  of 
his  followers.  For  when  in  the  very  midil  of  all  his  an- 
guifh,  they  could  fo  far  forget  his  forrows,  and  their  own 
profeflions  of  attachment  to  him,  as  to  fmk  into  deep,  how 
gentle  was  his  reproof  to  them  for  this  want  of  fenfibility 
and  attention  to  him  ?  "  Could  you  not  watch  with  me 
one  hour  ?"  And  even  this  afteftionate  rebuke  he  imme- 
diately tempers  with  a  kind  excufe  for  them  :  the  fpirit 
truly  is  willing,  but  the  flefh  is  weak.** 

I  now  proceed  in  the  melancholy  narrative.  "And 
while  he  yet  fpake,  lo  !  Judas,  one  of  the  twelve,  came, 
and  with  him  a  great  multitude  with  fwords  and  ftaves, 
from  the  chief  priefts  and  elders  of  the  people.  Now  he 
that  betrayed  him  gave  them  a  fign,  faying,  Whomfoever 
I  fhall  kifs,  that  fame  is  he  :  hold  him  faft.  And  forth- 
with he  came  to  Jefus,  and  faid.  Hail,  Mafter ;  and  kiff- 
ed  him.  And  Jefus  faid  unto  him,  Friend,  wherefore  art 
thou  come  ?  Then  came  they  and  laid  hands  on  Jefus,  and 
took  him." 

"  And  behold  one  of  them  which  were  v/Ith  Jefus  (St. 
Peter)  ftretched  out  his  hand,  and  drew  his  fword,  and 
ftruck  afervant  of  the  high  prieft,  (whofe  name  v/as  Mal- 
chus)  and  fmote  off  his  ear."  Here  again  we  fee  the 
warmth  and  vehemence  of  Peter's  temper,  wliich  prompt- 
ed him  to  a  well-meant,  though  injudicious  difplay  of  his 
zeal  in  his  Mafter*s  Caufe.  «  Then  faid  Jefus  unto  him. 
Put  up  again  thy  fword  into  its  place,  for  all  they  that 
take  the  fword  fhall  perifh  with  the  fword.  Thinkeft  thou 
that  I  cannot  now  pray  to  my  Father,  and  he  fhall  prefent- 
ly  give  me  more  than  f.velve  legions  of  angels  ?  But  hov/ 
then  fhall  the  fcripturc  be  fulfilled,  that  thus  it  mud  be  ?" 

From  this  reproof  to  Peter,  we  are  not  to  infer  that 
the  ufe  the  fword  in  felf  defence  is  unlawful  ;  but  that  the 


LECTURE     XXr.  349 

life  of  It  againft  the  magiflrates  and  the  mintjlers  of  juftice 
(which  was  the  cafe  in  the  prefent  inftance)  is  unlawful. 
It  was  meant  alfo  to  check  that  propenfity,  which  is  but 
too  ftrong  and  too  apparent  in  a  large  part  of  mankind, 
to  have  recourfe  to  the  fv^^ord  on  all  occafions ;  and  more 
particularly  to  reftrain  private  perfons  from  avenging  pri- 
vate injuries,  which  they  Ihould  rather  leave  to  the  ma- 
giilrate  or  to  God  ;  "  for  vengeance  is  mine,  I  will  re- 
pay, faith  the  Lord*."  In  all  fuch  cafes,  they  who  take 
the  fword  unjuftly  and  rafhly  will  probably,  as  our  Sav- 
iour here  forev/arns  them,  perifh  with  the  fword ;  with 
the  fword  of  their  adverfary,  of  of  the  magiftrate.  That 
denunciation  might  alfo  allude  to  the  Jews,  who  now 
feized  on  Jefus  ;  and  might  be  meant  to  ultimate  to  his 
difciples,  that  it  was  perfe(R:ly  needlefs  for  them  to  draw 
their  fwords  on  thefc  mifcreants,  fmce  they  w^ould  all  per- 
ifh at  the  fiege  or  capture  of  Jerufalem  by  the  fword  of 
rhe  Romans. 

If  it  had  been  the  intention  of  Providence  to  prote<5l 
Jefus  and  his  religion  by  force,  there  is  no  doubt  but  a 
hoft  of  angels  would  have  been  fent  to  defend  him,  as  one 
was  aflually  fent  to  comfort  him.  But  this  would  have 
defeated  the  very  purpofe  for  which  he  came  into  the  world, 
which  was,  that  he  fliould  "  make  his  foul  an  offering  for 
fmf .'"'  The  prophets  foretold  (more  particularly  Ifaiah 
and  Daniel)  that  he  (liould  do  fo.  And  befides  this, 
nothing  could  be  more  abhorrent,  from,  the  fpirit  of  his  re- 
ligion, than  force,  violence,  and  bloodfned.  Thefe  inftru- 
ments  of  deftnidion  he  left  to  fanatics  and  impoftors.  The 
only  v^eapons  he  made  ufe  of  were  of  a  different  nature  ; 
the  fword  of  the  fpirit,  tlie  fliield  of  faith,  and  the  armour 
of  righteoufnefs. 

"  In  that  fame  hour  faid  Jefus  to  the  multitudes,  Are 
ye  come  out  as  againft  a  thief  with  fwords  and  ftaves,  for 
to  take  me  ;  I  fat  daily  with  you  teaching  in  tlie  temple, 
and  ye  laid  no  hold  on  me.  But  all  this  was  done  that 
the  fcriptures  of  the  prophets  might  be  fulfilled  ;  which, 
as  I  have  already  obferved,  predi<5led  his  fuffeiings  and 

*  Rom.  xil.   19.  t  liaiah,  liii.   lo. 


350  LECTURE    XXT. 

liis  death.  Then  all  his  difciples  forfook  him  and  fled*" 
Here  we  have  the  exacS  completion  of  that  prophecy, 
which  he  had  jufl:  before  delivered,  that  all  his  difciples 
fnould  be  offended  becaufe  of  him ;  that  is,  fiiould  defert 
him  that  very  night.  And  that  this  prediftion  was  fo 
accomplifhed,  is  clear  beyond  all  controverfy  ;  becaufe  it 
was  an  event  which  the  difciples  would  for  their  own  credit 
gladly  have  fuppreffed,  if  they  durft.  By  recording  this 
event,  they  recorded  their  own  weaknefs,  their  own  pufil- 
lanimity.  And  we  may  be  perfectly  fure  that  they  would 
not  invent  a  falfehood  on  purpofe  to  perpetuate  their  own 
difgrace.  We  have  therefore,  in  this  incident,  a  demon- 
ftrative  proof,  both  that  our  Lord's  prophecy  was  aiSual- 
ly  fulfilled,  and  that  the  evangelifts  were  men  of  the  ftrid- 
eft  veracity  and  integrity,  who  were  determined  to  facri- 
fice  every  thing,  even  tlieir  own  reputation,  to  the  facred 
caufe  of  truth. 

Jefus  being  now  In  the  polTeflion  of  his  enemies,  they 
that  had  laid  hold  on  him  led  him  away  to  Caiaphas  the 
high  prieft,  where  the  fcribes  and  the  elders  were  aflem- 
bled.  But  Peter,  though  he  had  fled  with  the  reft,  yet 
afhamed  of  his  cowardice,  and  ftill  really  attached  to  his 
Mafter,  fummoned  up  for  the  moment  refolution  enough 
to  turn  back  and  follow  the  croud  (but  with  cautious  and 
trembling  fteps)  to  the  palace  of  the  high  prieft,  "  and 
went  in,  and  fate  with  the  fervants  in  the  hall  of  the  palace, 
to  fee  the  end.  Now  the  chief  priefts  and  elders,  and  all 
the  council,  fought  falfe  witnefs  againft  Jefus  to  put  him 
to  death,  but  found  none  ;  yea,  though  many  falfe  wit- 
neffes  came,  yet  found  they  none."  Their  obje<^  was  to 
put  Jefus  to  death  ;  and  for  this  purpofe  they  faught  out 
for  falfe  witnefies,  to  charge  him  with  a  capital  crime.  To 
condemn  any  one  to  death  their  own  law  required  two 
witnefies ;  and  it  was  alfo  necelTary  for  them  to  produce 
evidence  fufficient  to  induce  the  Roman  governor  to  ratify 
their  fentence,  without  which  it  was  of  no  avail.  There 
was  no  difficulty  in  finding  out  and  fuborning  falfe  witneff- 
es  in  abundance,  who  were  perfectly  well  difpofed  to  con- 
form to  their  wilhes  ;  but  for  a  long  time  they  found  none 
whofe  evidence  came  up  to  the  point  they  aimed  at ;  none 
who  could  prove  againft  Jefus  a  capital  oifence.     But  at 


LECTURE     XXL  351 

length  "  came  two  falfe  wltnefTes,  and  faid.  This  fellow 
faid,  I  am  able  to  deftroy  the  temple  of  God,  and  to 
build  it  in  three  days."  Now  to  fpeak  difrefpeftfully,  or 
to  prophecy  againft  the  temple,  was  confidered  by  the  • 
Jews  as  blafphemy,  and  of  courfe  a  capital  offence,  t.  But 
the  truth  was  that  Jefus  faid  no  fuch  thing.  The  expref- 
lions  alluded  to  by  the  witneffes  were  thofe  he  fpoke, 
when,  after  calling  the  buyers  and  fellers  out  of  the  tem- 
ple, the  Jews  afked  him  what  fign  he  could  give  them 
of  his  authority  to  do  thefe  things  ?  His  anfwer  was,  not 
as  the  witnefTes  ftated  it,  "  I  am  able  to  deftroy  this  tem- 
ple ;"  but  it  was,  "  deftroy  this  lemple,  and  in  three 
days  I  will  raife  it  up."  So  St.  John  exprefsly  tells  us*  ; 
and  alfo,  that  by  this  temple  he  meant  his  own  body,  to 
which  he  probably  pointed  at  the  time.  The  high  prieft, 
fenfible,  perhaps,  that  even  this  evidence  would  not  com- 
pletely anfv/er  his  purpofe,  proceeds  to  interrogate  our 
Saviour,  hoping  that  he  might  be  drawn  by  artful  quef- 
tions  to  condemn  himfelf.  He  arofe  therefore,  and  faid 
unto  Jefus,  "  Anfwereft  thou  nothing  ?  What  is  it  that 
thefe  witnefs  againft  thee  r"  Is  it  true,  or  is  it  falfe  I 
and  what  have  you  to  fay  in  your  own  defence  ?  But  Jefus 
held  his  peace.  He  difdained  to  make  any  anfwer  to 
fuch  unfounded  and  contemptible  accufations.  He  faw 
that  his  judges  were  predetermined  ;  that  every  tiling  he 
could  fay  would  be  of  no  avail ;  and  that  the  only  proper 
part  for  him  to  take,  was  to  obferve  a  dignified  filence. 
The  high  prieft  perceiving  this,  had  recourfe  to  a  meaf- 
ure  which  he  knew  muft  compel  our  Lord  to  fpeak  ;  "  I 
adjure  thee,  fays  he,  by  the  living  God,  that  thou  tell  us, 
whether  thou  be  the  Chrift  the  Son  of  God."  This  call- 
ing upon  a  man  to  fwear  by  the  living  God  was  called  the 
oath  of  adjuration,  and  was  the  Jewilh  mode  of  admin- 
iftering  an  oath  either  to  a  witnefs  or  a  criminal ;  and  when 
fo  adjured,  they  were  obliged  to  anfwer.  Jefus  now 
therefore  conceived  himfelf  bound  in  confcience  to  break 
his  filence,  and  faid  to  the  high  prieft,  "  Thou  haft  faid  ;" 
that  is,  thou  haft  faid  what  is  true,  I  cm  the  Meftiah,  the 
Chrift,  the  Son  of  God ;  for  all  thefe  were  fynonomus 
terms  among  tlie  Jews.     But  as  our  Lord^s  actual  appear- 

*  Chap  ii.  19. 


352  LECTURE     XXI. 

ance  and  fituation  did  but  ill  accord  with  a  chara(!ter  of 
iuch  high  dignity,  he  proceeds  to  aiTure  his  judges,  that 
what  he  affirmed  was  neverthelefs  unqueftionably  true ; 
and  that  they  themfelves  ftiould  in  due  time  have  the  fulleft 
proof  of  it.  For,  fays  he,  "  hereafter  ye  fhall  fee  the 
Son  of  man  fitting  on  the  right  hand  of  power,  and  com- 
ing in  the  clouds  of  heaven."  Sitting  at  the  right  hand  of 
power  means  fitting  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  to  whom 
the  Jews  fometimes  gave  the  appellation  of  power  ;  and 
coming  In  the  clouds  of  heaven,  was  with  the  Jews  a  char- 
afteriftic  mark  of  the  Meffiah.  And  the  whole  paflage 
relates  not  to  the  final  judgment,  but  to  the  coming  of 
Chrift  to  execute  vengeance  on  the  Jews  in  the  dfeftrudlion 
•of  Jerufalem  by  the  Romans.  "  Then  the  high  prieft 
rent  his  clothes,  (a  mark  of  extreme  horror  and  indigna- 
tion) faying,  he  hath  fpoken  blafphemy,  by  declaring 
himfelf  the  Chrift,  the  Son  of  God,  and  affuming  all  the 
marks  of  divine  power.  What  further  need  have  we  of 
witnefles  ?  Behold,  now  ye  have  heard  his  blafphemy. — 
What  think  ye  ?  They  anAvered  and  faid,  he  is  guilty  of 
death  ;"  guilty  of  a  crime  that  deferves  death.  "  Then 
did  they  fpit  in  his  face,  and  buffeted  him  ;  and  others" 
fmote  him  vnth  the  palms  of  their  hands,  faying,  Pro- 
phefy  unto  us  ;  who  is  he  that  fmote  thee  V* 

Such  were  the  indignities  offered  to  the  Lord  of  all,  by 
his  ov/n  infatuated  creatures  ;  and  although  he  could  with 
one  word  have  laid  them  proftrate  at  his  feet,  yet  he  bore 
all  thefe  infults  v/ithout  a  fingle  murmur  or  complaint, 
and  never  once  fpake  unadvifedly  with  his  lips.  "  Though 
he  was  reviled,  he  reviled  not  again  ;  though  he  fuffered, 
he  threatened  not,  but  committed  himfelf  to  him  that 
judgeth  righteoufly*." 

The  evangelift  now  refumes  the  hiftory  of  St.  Peter, 
who,  while  thefe  things  were  tranfading  in  the  council- 
room,  fate  without  in  the  palace  ;  and  a  damfel  came  un- 
to him  faying,  "  Thou  alfo  waft  with  Jefus  of  Galilee. — 
But  he  denied  before  them  all>  faying,  I  know  not  what 
*hou  fayeft.     .And  v/hen  he  was  come  out  into  the  porch, 

»  T  Pet.  H.  23. 


LECTURE     XXI.  S53 

another  maid  faw  him,  and  faid  unto  them  that  were  there. 
This  fellow  alfo  was  with  Jefus  of  Nazareth.  And  again 
he  denied  v.^th  an  oath,  I  do  not  know  the  man.  And 
after  a  while  came  unto  him  they  that  flood  by,  and  faid 
to  Peter,  Surely  thou  alfo  art  one  of  them,  for  thy  fpeech 
betrayeth  thee.  Then  began  he  to  curfe  and  to  Iwear, 
faying,  I  know  not  the  man.  And  immediately  the  cock 
crew.  And  Peter  remembered  the  words  of  Jefus,  which 
faid  unto  him,  Before  the  cock  crow  thou  fhalt  deny  me 
thrice.     And  he  went  out  and  wept  bitterly.'* 

This  mofl  intcrefting  ftory  is  related  by  all  the  evangel- 
ills,  with  a  few  immaterial  variations  in  each  ;  but  the 
fubftance  is  the  fame  in  all.  There  is  however  one  cir- 
cumftance  added  by  St.  Luke,  fo  exquifitely  beautiful 
and  touching,  that  it  well  deferves  to  be  noticed  here. — 
He  tells  us  that  after  Peter  had  denied  Jefus  thrice,  "  im- 
mediately, while  he  yet  fpake,  the  cock  crew  ;  and  the 
Lord  turned  and  looked  upon  Peter^J'*  Wliat  efFe<5t  that 
look  muft  have  had  on  the  heart  and  on  the  countenance  of 
Peter,  every  one  may,  perhaps,  in  fome  degree  conceive ; 
but  it  is  utterly  impofTible  for  any  words  to  defcribe,  or, 
I  believe,  even  for  the  pencil  of  a  Guido  to  exprefsf . — 
The  facred  hiflorian  therefore  moll  judicioully  makes  no 
attempt  to  work  upon  our  paffions  or  our  feelings  by  any 
difplay  of  eloquence  on  the  cccafion.  He  fimply  relates 
the  faft,  without  any  embellifhment  or  amplification  ;  and 
only  adds,  "  and  Peter  remembered  the  words  of  the 
Lord,  how  he  had  faid  unto  him,  before  the  cock  crow 
thou  flialt  deny  me  thrice ;  and  he  went  out  and  wept 
bitterly." 

The  refle6lions  that  croud  upon  the  mind  from  this  moft 
afFe6ling  incident  of  Peter's  denial  of  his  mailer,  are  ma- 
ny and  important ;  but  1  can  only  touch,  and  that  llightly, 
on  a  few. 

The  firft  is,  that  this  event  in  the  hillory  of  St.  Peter 
is  a  clear  and  a  Hiking  accomplifhment  of  our  Saviour's 

*  Ch.  xxli.  6 1. 
f  In  fa<5t,  I  cannot.  learn  that  any  great  mafter  has  ever  yet  ffileiit- 
ed  this  incident  as  the  fubjedl  of  a  piiflure. 

Aa 


•354<  L  E  C  T  U  R  E     XXI. 

•predicElIon,  tliat  before  the  cock  crew  he  ihould  deny  him 
thrice.  And  it  is  very  remarkable  that  there  are  in  this 
fame  chapter  no  lefs  than  four  other  prophecies  of  our 
Lord,  which  were  all  pun6:nally  fulfilled,  fome  of  them 
like  this,  within  a  few  hours  after  they  were  delivered. 

The  next  obfervation  refulting  from  the  fall  of  Peter  is 

■  the  melancholy  proof  it  affords  us  of  the  infirmity  of  hu- 

•man  nature,  the  weaknefs  of  our  beft  refolutions,  when 

left  to  ourfelves,  and  the  extreme  danger  of  confiding  too 

much  in  our  own  ftrength. 

That  St.  Peter  was  mofl  warmly  attached  to  Jefus, 
'that  his  intentions  were  upright,  and  his  profeflions  at  the 
■moment  fmcere,  there  can  be  no  doubt.  But  his  temper 
"vvas  too  hot,  and  his  confidence  in  himfelf  too  great. — 
When  our  Lord  told  him,  and  all  the  other  apoflles,  that 
they  would  defert  him  that  night,  Peter  was  the  firfl  to  fay 
to  him,  "  though  all  men  fliould  be  offended  becaufe  of 
thee,  yet  will  I  never  be  offended."  And  when  Jefus 
.  again  affured  him,  that  before  the  cock  crew  he  fhould 
deny  him  thrice,  Peter  infifled  with  ftill  greater  vehe- 
mence on  his  unfliaken  fidelity,  and  declared,  **  that 
though  he  fhould  die  with  him,  he  fhould  never  deny 
him."  Yet  deny  him  he  did,  with  execrations  and  oaths ; 
and  left  a  memorable  lefTon  even  to  the  befl  of  men,  not 
to  entertain  too  high  an  opinion  of  their  own  conflancy 
and  firmnefs  in  the  hour  of  temptation.  "  Let  him  that 
thinketh  he  ftandeth,  take  heed  lefl  he  fall." 

And  hence  in  the  lafl  place  we  fee  the  wifdom  and  the 
necefTity  of  looking  beyond  ourfelves,  of  looking  up  to 
heaven  for  fupport  and  alliflance  in  the  difcharge  of  our 
duty.  If,  when  Peter  was  firfl:  forewarned  by  our  Lord 
of  his  approaching  denial  of  him,  inflead  of  repeating 
his  profefTions  of  inviolable  fidelity  to  him,  he  had  with  all 
humility  confefTed  his  weaknefs,  and  implored  his  divine 
Mafter  to  flrengtlien  and  fortify  him  for  the  trial  that 
awaited  him,  the  event  probably  would  have  been  very 
different.  And  it  is  furprizing  that  he  had  not  learned 
this  leifon  from  his  former  experience.  For  when,  con- 
fiding as  lie   did  novv'  in   his  own  courage,  he  entreated 


LECTURE     XXL  S55 

Jefus  to  let  him  walk  to  him  upon  the  fea,  and  was  per- 
mitted to  do  fo  ;  no  fooner  did  he  find  the  wind  boifterous 
than  he  was  afraid,  and  beginning  to  fnik,  he  cried  out, 
"Lord,  fave  me.  And  immediately  Jefus  ftretched  forth 
his  hand  and  caught  him."  This  was  a  plain  intimation 
to  him,  (as  I  remarked  in  a  former  Ledure)  that  it  was 
not  his  own  arm  that  could  help  him,  but  that  Almighty 
hand,  and  that  outftretched  arm,  Vv^hich  then  preferved 
him  ;  and  to  which,  when  in  danger,  we  muft  all  have 
recourfe  to  preferve  us  from  finking.  "  Truft  then  in  the 
Lord,"  (as  the  wife  king  advifes),  "  with  all  thine  heart, 
and  lean  not  to  thine  own  underftanding.  In  all  thy  ways 
acknowledge  him,  and  he  fhall  dire^  thy  paths*." 

*  Prov.  Ml.   <, 


,^..<.,<  ,<..<..<..<•.<••<.<■.<■.<.■<••<.<  ..<••<•■<••<••<"<■•<>.>•>■■>••><•>••>•>•>•>••>••>•>•>->••>••>••>■>••>■•>•■>•>.«• 


LECTURE    XXII. 


MATTHEW    ixviu- 


I 


N  the  preceding  chapter  we  fiiw  that  the  chief 
prlefls  and  elders  had,  in  their  fiimmary  way,  without  the 
lliadow  of  juftice,  without  any  confiftent  evidence,  decided 
the  fate  of  Jefus,  and  pronounced  him  guilty  of  death.  Their 
next  care  was  how  to  get  this  fentence  confirmed  and  car- 
ried into  execution  ;  for  under  the  Roman  government 
they  had  not  at  this  time  the  power  of  the  fword,  the 
power  of  life  and  death  ;  they  could  not  execute  a  crim- 
inal, though  they  might  try  and  condemn  him,  without  a 
warrant  from  the  Roman  governor ;  they  determined 
therefore  to  carry  him  before  Piiale,  the  Roman  procura- 
tor of  Judasa  at  that  time.  But  then,  to  enfure  fuccefs  ia 
that  quarter,  it  was  neceiTary  to  give  their  accufations 
againft  Jefus  fuch  a  colour  and  fhape,  as  fhould  prevail 
upon  tlie  governor  to  put  him  to  death.  For  this  purpofe 
they  found  it  expedient  to  change  their  ground,  for  they 
had  condemned  him  for  blafphemy  ;  but  this  they  knew 
would  have  little  weight  with  a  pagan  governor,  who, 
like  Gallio,  would  "  care  for  none  of  thofe  things"  which 
related  folely  to  religion*  They  therefore  refolved  to 
bring  him  before  Pilate  as  a  Jiate  prifoner,  and  to  charge 
him  with  treafonable  and  feditious  pra<5tices  ;  with  fetting 
himfelf  up  as  a  king  in  oppofition  to  Casfar,  and  perfuad- 
ing  the  people  not  to  pay  tribute  to  that  prince.  Accord- 
ingly we  are  told  in  the  beginning  of  this  chapter,  that 
**  when  morning  was  come,  all  the  chief  priefts  and  elders 
of  the  people  took  council  againft  Jefus  to  put  him  to 
death  ;  "  that  is,  to  obtain  permlffton  to  put  him  to  death  ; 
"  and  when  they  had  bound  him  they  led  him  away,  and 
dilivered  him  to  Pontius  Pilate  the  governor." 

The  evangelift,  having  brought  the  hiftoiy  of  this  dia- 
bolical tranfa(^ion  thus  far,  makes  a  fliort  digreflion,  to 


S^SS^  LECTURE     XXIL 

inform  ns  of  the  fate  of  that  wretched  traitor  Judas,  who 
had  by  his  perfidy  brought  his  Mafter  into  this  fituation. 

"  Then  Judas,  vrhich  had  betrayed  him,  when  he  faw 
that  he  was  condemned,  repented  himfelf,  and  brought 
again  the  thirty  pieces  of  filver  to  the  chief  priefts  and 
elders,  faying,  I  have  linned  in  that  I  have  betrayed  the  in- 
nocent blood.  And  they  faid.  What  is  that  to  us  ?  See 
thou  to  that.  And  he  call  down  the  pieces  of  filver  in 
the  temple,  and  v/ent  and  hanged  himfelf." 

From   the  expreffion  made  ufe  of  in  the  third   vcrfe, 
**  when  Judas  faw  that  Jefus  was  condemned,  he  repented 
himfelf,^*  fomie  commentators  have  thought  that  lie  did 
not  imagine  or  expeft  that  Jefus  would  be   condemned  to 
death  ;  but  fuppofed  either  that  he  v/ould  convey  himfelf 
away  from  his  perfecutors,  or  that  he  would  prove  his  in- 
nocence to  the  fatisfaftion  of  his  judges  ;  or  that   at  the 
moft  fome  flight  punifliment  would  be  inflidted  upon  him. 
One  would  not  wifh  to  load  even  the  worfl  of  men  with 
more  guilt  than  really  belongs  to  them  ;  but,    from  con- 
fidering  the  chara(Ser  of  Judas,  and  comparing  together 
all  the  circumftances  of  tlie  cafe,  it  appears  to  me  more 
probable  that  the  acquittal  or  condemnation  of  Jefus  ne- 
ver entered  into  his  contemplation.     All  he  thought  of 
was  gain.     He  had  kept  the  common  purse,  and  had  rob- 
bed it  ;  and  his  only  objeft  was,  how  to  obtain  a  fum  of 
money,  wliich  he  determined  to  have  at  all  events,  and 
left  confequences  to  take  care  of  themfelves.     But  when 
he  faw  that  his  divine  Mafter,  whom  he  knew  to  be  perfectly 
innocent,  was  aftually  condemned  to  death,  his  confcience 
then  flew  in  his   face  ;    his  guilt   rofe  up  before  him    in 
all  its  horrors.     The  innocence,  the  virtues,  the  gentle- 
defs,  the  kindnefs   of  his   Lord,  with  a  thoufand  other 
circumftances,  rufhed  at  once  upon  his  mind,  and  painted 
to  him  the  enormity  of  his  crime  in  fuch  dreadful  colours, 
that  he  could  no  longer  bear  the  agonizing  tortures  that 
racked  his  foul,  but  went  immediatelv  and  deftroyed  him- 
felf. 

The  anfwer  of  the  chief  priefts  to  Judas,    when  he 
brought  back  to  them  the  thirty  pieces  of  filver,  and  de~ 


LECTURE     XXII.  359? 

dared  that  he  had  betrayed  the  innocent  blood,  was  a, 
perfe<ftly  natural  one  for  men  of  their  character  ,  "  What 
is  that  to  us  ?  See  thou  to  that."  Men  who  had  any 
feeling,  any  fentiments  of  common  humanity,  or  even  of 
common  juftice,  when  fo  convincing  a  proof  of  the  ac- 
cufed  perfon's  innocence  had  been  given,  them,  would  nat- 
urally have  relented,  would  have  put  an  immediate  flop 
to  the  proceedings,  and  releafed  the  prifoner.  But  this- 
was  very  far  from  entering  into  their  plan.  With  the 
guilt  or  innocence  of  Jefus  they  did  not  concern  them- 
felves.  This  was  not  their  affair.  All  they  wanted  was 
the  deftniftion  of  a  man  whom  they  hated  and  feared, 
and  whofe  life  and  doftrine  were  a  {landing  reproach  to 
them.  This  was  their  obje6t :  and  as  to  the  mercy  or  the 
juftice  of  the  cafe,  on  this  head  they  were  at  perfect  eafe  ; 
What  is  that  to  us  ?  See  thou  to  that."  And  yet  to  fee 
the  aftonilliing  inconfiftence  of  human  nature,  and  the 
ftrange  contrivances  by  vAicli  even  the  moft  abandoned 
of  men  endeavour  to  fatisfy  their  minds  and  quiet  their 
apprehenfions  ;  thefe  very  men,  who  had  no  fcruple  at 
all  in  murdering  an  innocent  perfon,  yet  had  wonderful 
qualms  of  confcience  about  putting  into  the  treafury  the 


rice  0 


money  which  they  themfelves  had  given  as  the  "  p. 
blood  P*  "  The  chief  priefts  took  thefilver  pieces,  and  faid,. 
it  is  not  lawful  for  us  to  put  them  into  the  treafury,  be- 
caufe  it  is  the  price  of  blood.  And  they  took  counfel, 
and  bought  with  them  the  potter's  field,  to  bury  ftran- 
gers  in.  Wherefore  that  field  was-  called  The  Field  of 
Blood,  unto  this  day.  Then  was  fulfilled  that  which  was 
fpoken  by  Jeremy  the  prophet,  faying,  And  they  took 
the  thirty  pieces  of  filver,  the  price  of  him  that  was  val- 
ued, whom  tliey  of  the  children  of  Ifrael  did  value,  and 
gave  them  for  the  potter's  field,  as  the  Lord  appointed- 
me*." 

*  It  happens  that  this  paffage  in  found  not  in  Jeremiah,  to  which  the 
evangelill  refers,  but  in  the  eleventh  chapter  of  Zechariah.  But  there 
are  various  very  fatisfa(3:ory  ways  in  which  learned  men  have  account- 
ed for  this  difficulty;  which  after  all,  as  the  prophecy  actually  exifts, 
is  a  matter  of  no  moment ;  and  in  writings  two  ©r  three  thoufand 
years  old,  it  is  no  great  wonder  if,  by  the  careleffnefs  of  tranfcribers, 
one  name  Ihould  fometimes  (efpecially  where  abbreviations  are  ufed) 
be  put  for  another. 


mo  LECTURE     XXIL 

I  cannot  pafs  on  from  this  part  of  the  chapter  without 
obferving,  that  the  fhort  account  here  given  us  of  Judas  If, 
cariot  affords  us  a  very  ftriking  proof  of  the  perfeft  in- 
nocence and  integrity  of  our  Lord^s  charafter,  and  of 
the  truth  of  his  pretentions. 

Had  there  been  any  thing  reprehenfible  in  the  former, 
or  any  deceit  in  the  latter,    it  muft  have  been  known  to 
Judas  Ifcariot.     He  was  one  of  the  tv/elve  who  w^ere  the 
conftant  companions  of  our  Saviour's  miniftry,  and  wit- 
neffes  to  every  thing  he  faid  or  did.     If    therefore  his 
conduct  had  been  in  any  refpect  irregular  or  immoral ; 
if  his  miracles  had  been  the  effed  of   coHufion  or  fraud ; 
if  there  had  been  any  plan  concerted  between  him  and 
his  difciples  to  impofe  a  falfe  religion  upon  the  world, 
and  under  the  guife  of  piety,  to  gratify  their  love  of  fame, 
honor,  wealth,   or  power  ;    if,    in  fhort,    Jefus  had  been 
either  an  enthufiaft  or  an  impoilor,  Judas  muft  have  been 
in  the  fecret ;    and  when  he  betrayed  his  Mafter,  would 
immediately  have  divulged   it  to  the  world.       By  fuch 
a  difcovery,    he  would  not  only  have  juftified  his  own 
treachery,  but  might  probably  have  gratified  alfo  his  ru- 
ling paffion,    his  love  of  money.     For  there  can  be  no 
doubt,  that  when  the  chief  priefts  and  rulers  v/ere  induf- 
trioufiy  feeking  out  for  evidence  againft  Jefus,  they  would 
moft  gladly  have  purchafed  that  of   Judas  at  any  price, 
however  extravagant,    that  he   chofe  to   demand.     But 
mltead  of  producing  any  evidence  agawjl  Jefus,  he  gives 
a  voluntary  and  moll  decifive  evidence  in  his  favor.     "  I 
have  fmned,"    fays  he,    in  an  agony  of  grief ;    "  I  have 
fmned,    and  have  betrayed  the  innocent  blood."     This 
Jeftimony  of  Judas  is  invaluable,    becaufe  it  is  the  tefti- 
mcny  of  an  unwilling  witnefs  ;    the  teilimxony,    not  of  a 
friend  but  of  an  enemy  ;    the  teilimony,  not  of  one  defi- 
rous  to  favor  and  to  befriend  the  accufed,  but  of  one  who 
had  aftually  betrayed  him.     After  fuch  an  evidence  as 
this,    it  feems  impofUble  for  any  ingenuous  mind  either  to 
q,ue{lion  the  reality  of   our  Saviour's  miracles,  or  the  d:-, 
vinity  to  v/hich  he  laid  claim  ;  becaufe,  as  Jndas  declared 
him  Innocent  (which  he  could  not  be,  liad  he  in  any  rei*pe(rt 
iecei'-oed\{\^  difciples)  he  m.ufi:  have  been,  what  he  affumcd 
tc  be,  the  Son  of  Gcd,  and  his  reliocion  the  word  of  God. 


LECTURE     XXIL  361 

After  this  account  of  Judas  Ifcariot,  the  evangelift 
proceeds  in  the  hillory, 

«  And  Jefus  Jlood  before  the  governor  J^  Little  did  that 
governor  imagine  who  it  was  that  then  ftood  before  him. 
Little  did  he  fufpe»51:  that  he  muft  himfelf  one  day  ftand 
before  the  tribunal  of  that  very  perfon,  whom  he  was 
then  going  to  judge  as  a  criminal  I 

It  appears  from  the  parallel  place  in  St.  Luke  (and 
from  what  was  ftated  in  the  preceding  LefturC;)  that  the 
charge  brought  againfl  Jefus  before  Pilate  was  not  what 
it  had  been  before  the  chief  priefts'?  blafphemy,  but  fedi- 
tion  and  treafon.  "  They  began  to  accufe  him,  faying. 
We  found  this  feliov/  perverting  the  nation,  and  forbid- 
ding to  give  tribute  to  Csefar,  faying,  that  he  himfelf  is 
Chrift  a  king*."  Thefe  were  great  crimes  againfl:  the 
ftate,  as  affedling  both  the  revenue  and  the  fovereignty  of 
the  Roman  emperor,  both  of  vv'hich  it  was  the  duty  of 
the  governor  to  fupport  and  maintain.  "  Pilate  therefore 
afked  him,  Art  thou  the  king  of  the  Jews  ?  And  Jefus 
iaid  unto  him.  Thou  fayeft."  That  is,  1  am  vv'hat  thou 
fayeft.  "  And  when  he  was  accufed  of  the  chief  priefts 
and  elders  he  anfwered  nothing.  Then  faith  Pilate  unto 
him,  Heareft  thou  not  how  many  things  thofe  witnefs 
againft  thee  ?  And  he  anfwered  him  to  never  a  word  ; 
infcmuch  that  the  governor  marvelled  greatly."  Our 
Lord's  conduft  en  this  occafion  was  truly  dignified^ 
When  he  was  called  upon  to  acknowledge  v/hat  was  leally 
true,  he  gave  a  dire^  anfwer  both  to  the  chief  priefts  and 
to  Pilate.  He  ackncv/ledged  that  he  was  the  Chrift,  the 
Son  of  God,  the  King  of  the  Jews  ;  but  falfe  and  fri- 
volous, and  iinjuft  accufations,  he  treated  as  they  dcferv- 
ed,  with  profound  and  contemptuous  filence. 

It  appears,  however,  from  St.  John,  that  although 
Jefus  declared  he  was  the  King  of  the  Jews,  yet  he  ex- 
plained to  Pilate  the  nature  of  his  kingdom,  which  he 
aifured  him  was  not  of  this  world.  And  Pilate,  fatisfied 
vvich  this  explanation,  and  feeing  clearly  tliat  the  whole 

*  Li;ke  sxiii.   a. 

A  A  2 


S62  LECTURE     XXIL 

accufation  was  malicious  and  groundlefs,  made  feveraJ 
elForts  to  fave  Jefus.  He  repeatedly  declared  to  his  accu- 
fers,  that  having  examined  him,  he  could  find  no  fault  in 
him.  This,  however,  inftead  of  difarming  their  fury, 
only  inflamed  and  increafed  it.  They  were  the  more  fierce, 
as  St.  Luke  tells  us,  faying,  "  He  ftirreth  up  the  people, 
teaching  throughout  all  Jewry,  beginning  from  Galilee 
to  this  place*."  The  mention  of  Galilee  fuggefted  an 
idea  to  Pilate,  which  he  flattered  himfelf  might  fave  him 
the  pain  of  condem.ning  an  innocent  man.  "  When  Pilate 
heard  of  Galilee,  he  afked  whether  the  man  were  a  Gali- 
lean ;  and  as  foon  as  he  knew  that  he  belonged  to  Herod's 
jurifdidion,  he  fent  him  to  Herodf .  That  tyrant,  who 
was  delighted  to  fee  Jefus,  and  was  probably  very  well 
difpofed  to  treat  him  as  he  did  his  precurfor,  John  the 
Baptift,  yet  could  bring  no  guilt  home  to  him.  He  there- 
fore fent  him  back  to  Pilate,  infulted  and  derided,  but 
imcondemned.  Pilate,  not  yet  difcouraged,  had  recourfe 
to  another  expedient,  which  he  hoped  might  ftill  preferve 
a  plainly  guiltlefs  man.  It  was  the  cuftom  at  the  great 
feafi:  of  the  paiTover  for  the  Roman  governor  to  gratify 
the  Jewifh  people,  by  pardoning  and  releafing  to  them 
any  prifoner  whom  they  chofe  to  feleft  out  of  thofe  that 
were  condemned  to  death.  Now  there  happened  to  be 
at  that  time  a  notorious  criminal  in  prifon,  named  Barab- 
bas,  who  had  been  guilty  of  exciting  an  infurreclion, 
and  committing  murder  in  it.  Pilate  thinking  it  impofli- 
ble  that  the  people  could  carry  their  malignant  rage  againft 
Jefus  fo  far  as  to  defiie  the  pardon  of  a  murderer  rather 
than  of  him,  faid  unto  them,  "  Whom  will  ye  that  I  re- 
leafe  unto  you,  Barabbas,  or  Jefus  which  is  called  Chrift  V* 
Had  the  people  been  left  to  their  own  unbiaffed  feeling, 
one  would  think  that  they  could  not  have  hefitated  one 
moment  in  their  choice.  But  they  were  under  the  influ- 
ence of  leaders  (as  they  generally  are)  more  wicked 
than  themfeives.  For  we  are  told,  that  "  the  chief  priefts 
and  elders  perfuaded  the  multitude  that  they  Ihould  a(k 
Barabbas,  and  deftroy  Jefus  J." 

While  this  was  pafllng  an  extraordinary  incident  took 
place,  which  muft  needs  have  made  a  deep  impreflion  on 

*  Luke  xxiii-  5.    f  Luke  xxiii.  6,  7.     \  Matth.  xxvii.  ao. 


LECTURE     XXIL  365 

the  mind  of  Pilate.  "  When  he  was  fat  down  upon  the 
judgment-feat,  his  wife  fent  unto  him,  faying,  Have  thou 
nothing  to  do  with  that  juft  man  ;  for  I  have  fuifered 
many  things  this  day  in  a  dream  becaufe  of  him."  Anx- 
ious as  Pilate  already  was  to  fave  Jefus,  this  fmgular  cir- 
cumftance  coming  upon  him  at  the  moment,  muft  have 
greatly  quickened  his  zeal  in  fuch  a  caufe.  He  therefore 
redoubled  his  eiforts  to  carry  his  point,  and  again  faid  to 
the  Jews,  "  Whether  of  the  twain  will  ye  that  I  releafe  unto 
you  ?  They  faid,  Barabbas.  Pilate  ftill  perfifted,  What 
(hall  I  do  then  v/ith  Jefus  wliich  is  called  Christ  ?"  that 
is,  the  Meffiah,  the  great  deliverer  v/hom  they  expe61:ed  ; 
thinking  this  confideration  might  foften  them..  But  he 
was  miftaken  ;  they  all  fay  unto  him.,  "  Let  him  be  cruci- 
fied." Once  more  he  endeavored  to  move  their  compal- 
fion,  by  reminding  them  of  the  pcrfeft  innocence  of  Jefus. 
The  governor  faid  unto  them,  "  Why  ?  what  evil  hath  he 
done  ?"  But  even  this  laft  affe<5ling  remonftrance  was  all 
in  vain  :  they  cried  out  the  more,  faying,  *'  Let  him  be 
crucified."  When  therefore  Pilate  faw  that  he  could  pre- 
vail nothing,  but  rather  a  tumult  was  made,  he  took  wa- 
ter, and  wafhed  his  hands  before  the  multitude,  faying, 
"  I  am  innocent  of  the  blood  of  this  juft  perfon  ;  fee  ye 
to  it."  This  was  a  cuftom  both  among  the  Jews  and  the 
Romans,  when  they  wiflied  to  exculpate  themfelves  from 
the  guilt  of  having  put  to  death  an  innocent  man.  We 
meet  with  inftances  of  this  fignrficant  ablution  in  feveral 
ciaiTic  writers*.  The  Mofaic  law  itfelf  enjoined  it  in  cer- 
tain cafesf  ;  and  it  is  in  alluhon  to  this  ceremony  that  Da* 
vid  fays  in  the  Pfalms,  "  I  will  waih  my  hands  in  innocen- 
cy,  O  Lord  ;  (that  is,  in  teftimony  of  my  innocence)  and 
fowill  I  go  to  thine  altar:]:." 

This  therefore  was  at  once  a  vifible  declaration  of  the 
innocence  of  Jefus,  and  of  Pilate's  reluftance  in  condemn-- 

*  Sophocles-Ajax,  iii.  i.  v.  664,  and  Scholiaft  In  Loco.  So  ^neas, 
after  having  recently  flau^htered  fo  many  cf  his  enemies  at  the  facking 
of  Troy  by  the  Greeks,  durft  not  touch  his  honfehold  gods,  till  he  had 
waflied  himfelf  in  the  running  ftream. 

Me  faello  c  tanto  di^refTum  et  casde  recenti, 
Attredare  nefas ;  dor.ec  me  flumine  vivo 
Abluero. JEii.  i.  ii.  v.  718. 

X  Ehut.  xxi.  6:  7.  I  Pfalm  xxvi.  6. 


S6i.  LECTURE     XXIL 

ing  him.  To  this  the  Jews  made  that  anfwer,  which  muft 
petrify  every  heart  with  horror.  Then  anfwered  all  the 
people,  and  faid,  **  His  blood  he  upon  us  and  on  our  children*^* 
Then  releafed  he  Barabbas  unto  them.  And  when  he  had 
fcourged  Jefus,  he  delivered  him  to  be  crucified." 

Here  let  us  paufe  a  moment  and  look  back  to  the  fcene 
we  have  been  contemplating,  and  the  refledions  that  arife 
from  it. 

It  affords,  in  the  firft  place,  a  moft  awful  warning  to 
the  lower  orders  of  the  people,  to  beware  of  giving  them- 
felves  up,  as  they  too  frequently  do,  to  the  direction  of 
artful  and  profligate  leaders,  who  abufe  their  fimplicity 
and  credulity  to  the  very  worft  purpofes,  and  make  ufe  of 
them  only  as  tools,  to  accomplifh  their  own  private  views 
of  ambition,  of  avarice,  of  refentment,  or  revenge. — 
We  have  juft  feen  a  moft  ftriking  inftance  of  this  ftrange 
propenfity  of  the  multitude  to  be  mifled,  and  of  the  eafe 
with  which  their  paffions  are  worked  up  to  the  commiffion 
cf  the  moft  atrocious  crimes.  The  Jewifh  people  were 
naturally  attached  to  Jefus.  They  were  aftonifhed  at  his 
miracles,  they  were  charmed  with  his  difcourfes  ;  and 
their  difeafes  and  infirmities  were  relieved  by  his  omnipo- 
tent benevolence.  But  notwithftanding  all  this,  by  the 
dexterous  management  of  their  chief  priefts  and  elders, 
their  admiration  of  Jefus  was  converted  in  a  moment  into 
the  moft  rancorous  hatred  ;  they  were  perfuaded  to  afk  the 
life  of  a  murderer  in  preference  to  his ;  and  to  demand 
the  deftrudion  of  a  man  who  had  never  offended  them, 
whofe  innocence  was  as  clear  as  the  day,  and  was  repeat- 
edly acknowledged  and  ftrongly  urged  upon  them  by  the 
very  judge  w^ho  had  tried  him. 

Yet  even  that  judge  himielf,  who  was  fo  thoroughly 
convinced  of  the  innocence  of  his  prifoner,  and  aflually 
ufed  every  means  in  his  power  to  preferve  him,  even  he 
had  not  the  honeftyanJ  the  courage  to  protedt  himeffecflu- 
ally  ;  and  his  condud  affords  a  moft  dreadful  proof  what 
kind  of  a  thing  public  juft  ice  was  among  the  moft  enlight' 
enedy  and  (if  we  may  believe  their  own  poets  and  hiftori- 
ans)  the  moft  •virtuous  people  in  the  ancient  heathen  world. 


^  L  IS  C  T  U  R  E    XXIL  365. 

We  fee  a  Roman  governor  fent  to  difpenfe  juftlce  in  a 
Roman  province,  and  invefted  with  full  powers  to  fave  or 
to  deftroy ;  we  fee  him  with  a  prifoner  before  him,  in 
whom  he  repeatedly  declared  he  could  find  no  fault :  and 
yet,  after  a  few  inefFed:ual  druggies  with  his  own  con- 
fcience,  he  delivers  up  that  prifoner,  not  merely  to  death, 
but  to  the  moft  horrible  and  excruciating  torments  that  hu- 
man malignity  could  devife.  The  fadt  is,  he  was  afraid 
of  the  people,  he  was  afraid  of  Csfar ;  and  when  the 
clamorous  multitude  cried  out  to  him,  "  if  thou  let  this 
man  go,  thou  art  not  Caefar's  friend,"  all  his  firmnefs,  all 
his  refolution  at  once  forfook  him.  He  Ihrunk  from  the 
dangers  that  threatened  him,  and  facrificed  his  confcience 
and  his  duty  to  the  menaces  of  a  mob,  and  the  dread  of 
fovereign  power. 

Could  any  thing  like  this  have  happened  in  this  coun- 
try ?  We  all  know  tliat  it  is  impoffible.  We  all  know  that 
no  dangers,  no  threats,  no  fears,  either  of  Caefar  or  of 
the  people,  could  ever  induce  a  Britilli  judge  to  condemn 
to  death  a  man,  whom  he  in  his  confcience  believed  to  be 
innocent.  And  what  is  it  that  produces  this  diiference 
between  a  Roman  and  a  Britilh  judge  ?  It  is  this  :  that 
the  former  had  no  other  principle  to  govern  his  conduct 
but  natural  reafon,  or  what  would  now  be  called  philofo- 
phy  ;  which,  though  it  would  fometimes  point  out  to  him 
the  path  of  duty,  yet  could  never  infpire  him  with  forti- 
tude enough  to  perfevere  in  it  in  critical  and  dangerous  cir- 
cumftances  ;  in  oppofition  to  the  frowns  of  a  tyrant,  or 
the  clamours  of  a  multitude.  Whereas  the  Britifh  judge, 
in  addition  to  his  natural  fentiments  of  right  and  wrong, 
and  the  dictates  of  the  moral  fenfe,  has  tlie  principle  of 
religion  alfo  to  influence  his  heart  :  he  has  the  unerring  and 
inflexible  rules  of  evangelical  redlitude  to  guide  him  ;  he 
has  that  which  will  vanquifli  every  other  fear,  the  fear  of 
Gody  before  his  eyes.  He  knows  that  he  himfelf  muft  one 
day  fliand  before  the  Judge  of  all ;  and  that  com'ideratioa 
keeps  him  firm  to  his  duty,  be  tlie  dangers  that  furround 
him  ever  fo  formidable  and  tremendous. 

This  is  one,  among  a  thoufand  other  proofs,  of  the  bene- 
fits we  derive,  even  in  the  prefent  life,  from  the  Chriftian 


5e>(>  I.  E  C  T  U  R  E    XXir. 

i^evelation.  It  has,  In  fa(fl,  had  a  moft  falutary  and  bene- 
ficial influence  on  our  moft  important  temporal  interefts. 
Its  beneficent  fpirit  has  fpread  itfelf  through  all  the  dliFer- 
ent  relations  and  modifications  of  human  fociety,  and 
communicated  its  kindly  influence  to  almoft  every  public 
and  private  concern  of  mankind.  It  has  not  only  purifi- 
ed, as  we  have  feen,  the  adminiftation  of  juftice  ;  but  it 
has  infenfibly  worked  itfelf  into  the  inmoft  frame  and  con- 
ftitution  of  civil  focieties.  It  has  given  a  tinge  to  the  com- 
plexion of  their  governments,  and  to  the  temper  of  their 
laws.  It  has  foftened  the  rigour  of  defpotifm,  and  lefTened^ 
i-n  fome  degree,  the  horrors  of  war.  It  has  defcended  into 
families,  has  diminifhed  the  prefTure  of  private  tyranny, 
improved  every  domeftic  endearment,  given  tendernefs  to 
the  parent,  humanity  to  the  mafter,  refpedt  to  fuperiors, 
to  inferiors  fecurity  and  eafe  ;  and  left,  in  fliort,  the  moft^ 
evident  traces  of  its  benevolent  fpirit  in  all  the  various  fub- 
ordinations,  dependencies,  and  connexions  of  focial  life. 

But  to  return  to  the  Roman  governor.  Having  thus 
bafely  fhrunk  from  his  duty,  and,  contrary  to  his  own 
convidtion,  condemned  an  innocent  man,  he  endeavored 
to  clear  himfelf  from  this  guilt,  and  to  fatisfy  his  con- 
fcience,  by  the  vain  ceremony  of  wafning  his  hands  before 
the  multitude,  and  declaring,  "  that  he  was  innocent  of 
the  blood  of  that  juft  perfon.'*  Alas  !  not  all  the  water 
of  the  ocean  could  waih  away  the  foul  and  indelible  ftain 
of  murder  from  his  foul.  Yet  he  hoped  to  transfer  it  to 
the  accomplices  of  his  crime.  "  See  ye  to  it,"  fays  he  to 
the  people.  And  what  anfwer  did  that  people  make  to 
him  ?  *'  His  bloody  faid  they,  be  on  us  and  on  our  children.''^ 
A  moft  fatal  imprecation,  and  moft  dreadfully  fulfilled 
upon  them  at  the  fiege  of  Jerufalem,  when  the  vengeance 
of  heaven  overtook  them  with  a  fury  unexampled  in  the 
hiftory  of  the  world  ;  when  they  were  expofed  at  once  to 
the  horrors  of  famine,  of  fedition,  of  affaffination,  and 
the  fv.^crd  of  the  Romans.  And  it  is  very  remarkable, 
that  there  was  a  ftriking  correfpondence  between  their 
crime  and  their  punifhment.  They  put  Jefus  to  death 
when  tlie  nation  was  aftembled  to  celebrate  the  paflbver  ; 
and  when  the  nation  was  affembled  for  the  famepurpofe, 
Titus  fiiut  them  up  within  the  walls  of  Jerufalem.     The 


LECTURE    XXir.  S67 

Tejeclion  of  the  true  Mefliah  was  their  crime,  and  the  fol- 
lowing of  falfe  Meffiahs  to  their  deftrii61;Jon  was  their  pun- 
ifhment.  They  bought  Jefus  as  a  flave  ;  and  they  them- 
felves  were  afterwards  fold  and  bought  as  flaves,  at  the 
loweft  prices.  They  preferred  a  robber  and  murderer  to 
Jefus,  whom  they  crucified  between  two  thieves  ;  and  they 
themfelves  were  afterwards  infefted  with  bands  of  thieves 
and  robbers.  They  put  Jefus  to  death  left  the  Romans 
fliould  come  and  take  away  their  place  and  nation ;  and 
the  Romans  did  come  and  take  away  their  place  and  na- 
tion*. And  what  is  ftill  more  ftriking,  and  ftill  m.ore 
ftrongly  marks  the  judgment  of  God  upon  them,  they 
were  punifhed  with  that  very  kind  of  death  which  they 
were  fo  eager  to  inflidt  on  the  Saviour  of  mankind,  the 
death  of  the  crofs  ;  and  that  in  fuch  prodigious  numbers, 
that  Jofephus  affures  us  there  wanted  wood  for  croifes,  and 
room  to  place  them  inf. 

The  hiftory  then  proceeds  as  follows  :  "  Then  releafed 
he  Barabbas  unto  them  ;  and  when  he  had  fcourged  Je- 
fus, he  delivered  him  to  be  cmcified."  It  was  the  cuftom 
of  the  inhuman  Romans  to  fcourge  their  criminals  before 
they  crucified  them  ;  as  if  the  exquifite  tortures  of  cruci- 
fixion were  not  fufficient  without  adding  to  them  thofe  of 
the  fcourge.  But  in  this  inftance  the  Roman  foldiers  went 
further  ftill ;  they  improved  upon  the  cruelty  of  their 
mafters,  and  to  torments  they  added  the  moft  brutal 
mockery  and  infult.  "  Then  the  foldiers  of  the  governor 
took  Jefus  into  the  common  hall,  and  gathered  unto  him 
the  whole  band  of  foldiers  ;  and  tliey  ftripped  him,  and 
put  on  him  a  fcarlet  robe.  And  when  they  had  platted 
a  crown  of  thorns,  they  put  it  upon  his  head,  and  a  reed 
in  his  right  hand  ;  and  they  bowed  the  knee  before  him, 
and  mocked  him,  faying.  Hail,  King  of  the  Jews  !  And 
they  fpit  upon  him,  and  took  the  reed,  and  fmote  him  on 
the  head.  And  after  they  had  mocked  him,  they  took 
the  robe  off  from  him,  and  put  his  own  raiment  on  him, 
and  led  him  away  to  be  crucified.*'  One  haftens  over 
this  fcene  of  infolence  and  outrage  with  averted  eyes,  and 
can  hardly  bring  one's  mind  to  believe  that  any  thing  in 

*   Newton  on  Prophecy,  vol.  ii.  p.  355. 
f  Dc  Bell.  Jud.  I  y.  c  xi-  p.  1147.  ^^'  H^ds- 


S68  I-  £  C  T  tJ  R  E     XXir, 

the  Ihape  of  man  could  have  rifen  to  this  height  of  wanton 
barbarity.  What  a  difference  between  this  treatment  of 
an  innocent  and  injured  man,  to  that  of  the  vilefl:  crimi- 
nal in  this  country  previous  to  his  execution  j  and  how 
ilrongly  does  it  mark  the  diiference  between  the  fpirit  of 
Paganifm  and  the  fpirit  of  Chriftianity  !  "  And  as  they 
came  out,  they  found  a  man  of  Cyrene,  Simon  by  name, 
him  they  compelled  to  bear  his  crofs."  It  was  ufual  for 
criminals  to  bear  their  own  crofs  ;  but  when  they  were 
feeble  (as  the  blefied  Jefus  might  well  be  after  all  his  bitter 
fufferings)  they  compelled  fome  one  to  bear  it  for  him  | 
and  this  Cyrenian  was  probably  known  to  be  a  favourer  of 
Chrift.  "  And  when  they  were  come  to  a  place  called 
Golgotha,  they  gave  him  vinegar  to  drink,  mingled  with 
gall ;"  a  kind  of  ftupefying  potion.  Intended  to  abate  the 
ienfe  of  pain,  and  to  haften  death.  "  And  they  crucified 
him,  and  parted  his  garments,  cafting  lots  ;  that  It  might 
be  fulfilled  which  was  fpoken  by  the  prophet,  "  They  part- 
ed my  garments  among  them,  and  upon  my  veflure  did 
they  call  lots."  This  is  a  prediction  of  king  David's,  in 
the  22d  Pfalm.  "  And  fitting  down,  they  watched  him 
there  ;  and  fet  up  over  him  his  aecufation,  written.  This  is 
JefuSi  the  King  of  the  Jeivs  ;  for  in  extraordinary  cafes  it 
was  ufual  to  place  fuch  Infcriptions  over  the  criminal ;  but 
with  regard  to  this,  a  remarkable  circumftance  occured. 
We  learn  from  St.  John,  that  many  of  the  Jews  read 
this  infcription,  which  gave  them  infinite  offence  ;  as  being 
a  declaration  to  all  the  world  that  Jefus  really  ivas  their 
king.  The  chief  priefts  therefore  came  to  Pilate,  and 
begged  of  him  to  alter  the  infcription  ;  and  inftead  of 
writing,  "  This  is  the  King  of  the  Jews,"  to  write,  "  He 
faid  I  am  the  King  of  the  Jews."  Pilate,  who  put  up 
this  infcription  out  of  mockery,  now  retained  it,  like  a 
true  Roman,  out  of  obftinacy.  "  What  I  have  written 
(fays  he,  peeviftily)  I  have  written  ;  and  It  fiall  ftand  ;" 
unconfclous  of  what  he  was  faying,  and  of  his  being  over- 
ruled all  the  while  by  an  unfeen  hand,  which  thus  com- 
pelled him  to  bear  an  undefigned  tcftimony  to  a  moft  im- 
portant truth  ;  that  the  very  man  whom  he  had  crucified 
as  a  malefaiftor,  did  not  merely /zy  that  he  was  the  king  ef 
the  Jews,  the  true  MefTiah,  but  that  he  really  ^ivas  fo. 


LECTURE     XXIX.  B69 

**  Then  were  two  thieves  crucified  with  him,  the  one 
on  the  right  hand,  the  other  on  the  left."  This  was  done 
with  a  view  of  adding  to  the  ignominy  of  our  Saviour's 
fufferings.  But  tliis  aft  of  malignity,  like  many  other 
inftances  of  the  fame  nature,  anfwered  a  purpofe  which 
the  authors  o£  it  little  thought  of  or  mtended.  It  was 
the  completion  of  a  prophecy  of  Ifaiah,  in  which,  allud- 
ing to  this  very  tranfaftion,  he  fays  of  the  Meffiah,  "  he 
was  numbered  with  the  tranfgrefTors*."  They  then  con- 
tinued tlieir  infults  upon  him,  even  while  hanging  in  ago- 
ny upon  the  crofs,  as  we  find  related  in  the  five  following  ver- 
fes  :  We  are  then  told,  that "  from  the  fixtli  hour  there  was 
darknefs  over  all  the  land  until  tlie  ninth  hour.'"  The  fixth 
hour  of  the  Jews  correfponds  to  our  twelve  o'clock,  and 
their  ninth  liour  of  courfe  to  our  three.  There  was  tliere- 
fore  a  darknefs  over  all  the  eartli,  from  twelve  at  noon  till 
three  in  the  afternoon.  This  darknefs  muft  have  been 
fuperriatural  and  miraculous.  It  could  not  be  an  eclipfe 
of  the  fun,  becaufe  that  cannot  happen  but  in  the  new 
moon ;  whereas  this  was  at  the  feaft  of  the  PafTover, 
wlitch  was  always  celebrated  at  the  full  moon.  It  is  ta- 
ken notice  of  by  feveral  ancient  writers,  both  Heathen 
and  Chriilian  ;  and  Tertullian  exprefsly  declares,  tliat  it 
was  mentioned  in  the  Roman  archivesf .  From  whence  it 
appears,  that  it  was  not  confined  to  the  land  of  Jed^a, 
but  extended  itfelf,  as  it  is  exprefTed  by  St.  Luke,  over 
nil  the  earthy. 

And  about  the  ninth  hour  Jefus  cried  with  a  loud  voice, 
faying,  "  Eli,  Eli,  lama  fabachthani  ?'*  that  is  to  fay, 
"  My  God,  my  God,  why  haft  thou  forfaken  me  ?"  We 
are  not  from  hence  to  imagine,  that  Jefus  meant  by  thefe 
words  to  exprefs  any  diftruft  of  God's  fiivor  and  kindnefs 
towards  him,  or  any  apprehenfion  that  the  light  of  his 
countenance  was  withdrawn  from  him.  This  was  im- 
pofiible.  He  well  knew,  that  under  that  load  of  afiliftion 
which  for  the  falvation  of  mankind,  he  voluntarily  took 
upon  himfelf,  he  was  ftill  his  heavenly  Father's  "  beloved 
Son,  in  whom  he  was  well  pleafed."  Thefe  expreflions 
therefore  of   feeming  defpondence,    were  nothing  more 

*  Ifaiah,  liii.  12.        f  Tcrtull.  Ap<^.  c,  %i.      \  Luke,  xxiii-  44, 

B    B 


870  LECTURE    XXII. 

than  the  natural  and  almoft  unavoidable  eiFuiions  of  a 
mind  tortured  with  the  acuteft  pain,  and  hardly  confcious 
of  the  complaints  it  uttered ;  of  which  many  fimilar  in- 
ftances  occur  in  the  Pfalms.  Indeed  thefe  words  them- 
ielves  are  the  beginning  of  the  22d  Pfalm,  which  perhaps 
our  Lord  recited  throughout,  or  at  leafl  undoubtedly 
meant  to  apply  the  whole  of  it  to  himfelf.  And  this  very 
Pfalm,  although  in  the  outfet  it  breaths  an  air  of  dejedion 
and  complaint,  yet  ends  in  expreffing  the  firmeft  truft  in 
the  mercy  and  the  protedion  of  God.  And  our  Lord 
himfelf,  when  he  breathed  his  laft,  committed  himfelf  with 
boundlefs  confidence  to  the  care  of  the  Almighty.  "  Fath- 
er, into  thy  hands  I  commend  my  Ipirit*.'* 

Then  fome  of  them  that  flood  there,  when  they  heard 
him  crying  out  "  Eli,  Eli,*'  deceived  by  the  fimilitude  of 
the  found,  faid  "  This  man  calleth  for  Elias.  And 
ftraitway  one  of  them  ran,  and  took  a  fpunge,  and  filled 
it  with  vinegar,  and  put  it  on  a  reed,  and  gave  him  to 
drink."  This  as  St.  John  tells  us,  was  done  in  confequence 
of  Jefus  faying,  "  I  thirft."  The  reft  faid,  «  Let  be  ; 
let  us  fee  whether  Elias  will  come  to  fave  him."  "  Jefus, 
when  he  had  cried  again  with  a  loud  voice,  gave  up  the 
ghoft."  This  was  about  the  ninth  hour,  or  three  in  the 
afternoon.  And  as  he  was  crucified  at  tlie  third  hour,  or 
at  nine  in  the  morning,  he  had  hung  no  lefs  than  fix  hours 
in  agonies  upon  the  crofs.  And  this,  let  it  never  be  for- 
gotten, was  for  us  men,  and  for  our  falvation  !  "  And 
behold  the  vail  of  the  temple  was  rent  in  twain,  from  the 
top  to  bottom  ;  and  the  earth  did  quake,  and  the  rocks 
rent,  and  the  graves  were  opened ;  and  many  bodies  of 
the  faints  which  flept,  arofe  and  came  out  of  the  graves 
after  his  refurredion,  and  went  into  the  holy  city,  and 
appeared  unto  many." 

Such  were  the  convuliions  into  which  the  whole  frame 
of  nature  was  thrown,  when  the  Lord  of  all  yielded  up 
his  life. 

The  vail  of  the  temple,  we  are  told,  in  the  firfl  place, 
was  rent  in  twain,  from  the  top  to  the  bottom. 
*  Lwkc,  xxiii.  46. 


LECTURE    XXIL  S7i 

The  Jewifk  temple  was  divided  into  feveral  parts  ;  the 
moft  facred  was  called  the  Holieft,  or  the  Holy  of  Holies^ 
into  which  none  but  the  high-prieft  might  enter,  and  that 
only  once  in  a  year.  It  was  confidered  as  a  type  of 
heaven ;  and  was  feparated  from  what  was  called  the  holy- 
place,  or  the  place  where  divine  worfiiip  was  celebrated, 
by  a  curtain  of  rich  tapeftry,  which  is  here  called  the  vail 
of  the  temple.  This  vail,  when  our  Saviour  expired,  was 
rent  in  twain,  from  the  top  to  the  bottom  ;  by  which  was 
fignified  the  abolition  of  the  whole  Mofaic  ritual,  the  re- 
moval of  the  partition  between  Jev/  and  Gentile,  and  the 
admiflion  of  the  latter  (on  the  terms  of  the  Gofpel  cove- 
nant) into  heaven,  or  the  Holy  of  Holies.  "  And  the 
earth  did  quake,  and  the  rocks  rent."  This  earthquake 
is  mentioned  by  heathen  authors  as  having,  in  the  reign 
of  Tiberius,  deftroyed  twelve  cities  in  Afia*.  "  And 
the  graves  were  opened,  and  many  bodies  of  the  faints 
which  flept  arofe,  and  came  out  of  the  graves  after  his 
refurredtion,  and  v/ent  into  the  holy  city,  and  appeared 
unto  many."  Who  the  holy  perfons  were  which  then 
arofe  from  their  graves  muft  be  matter  of  mere  conjec- 
ture ;  but  moft  probably  fome  of  thofe  who  had  believed 
in  Chrift,  fuch  as  old  Simeon,  and  whofe  perfons  were 
knov^Ti  in  the  city. 

Now  when  the  centurion,  and  they  that  were  with  him 
watching  Jefus,  faw  the  earthquake,  and  thofe  things  that 
were  done,  they  feared  greatly,  faying,  "  Truly  this  man 
was  the  Son  of  God." 

The  centurion  here  mentioned  was  the  Roman  captain, 
who,  with  a  guard  of  foldiers,  was  ordered  to  attend  the 
crucifixion  of  Jefus,  and  fee  the  fentence  executed.  He 
placed  himfelf,  as  St.  Mark  informs  us,  over  againft  Jefus. 
From  that  ftation  he  kept  his  eye  conftantly  fixed  upon 
him,  and  obferved  with  attention  every  thing  he  faid  or 
did.  And  when  he  faw  the  meeknefs,  the  patience,  the 
refignation,  the  firmnefs,  with  which  our  Lord  endured 
the  moft  excruciating  torments  ;  when  he  heard  him  at 
one  time  fervently  praying  for  his  murderers,  at  another 

♦  Taciti  Anna!.  I  ii.  c  4;  Suet-  in  Tib.  vi-  44S.  PJIn-  Nat. 
HJft.  I.  a    c  S4. 


372  LECTURE     XXIf. 

difpoiing  with  dignity  and  authority  of  a  place  m  para* 
dife  to  one  of  his  fellow  fufFerers  ;  and  at  length,  with 
that  confidence  which  nothing  but  confcious  virtue  and 
confcious  dignity  could  at  fuch  a  time  infpire,  recom- 
mending his  fpirit  into  the  hands  of  his  heavenly  Father ; 
he  could  not  but  conclude  him  to  be  a  moft  extraordinary 
perfon  and  fomething  more  tlian  human.  But  when 
moreover  he  obferved  the  aftonifhing  events  that  took 
place  when  Jefus  expired ;  the  agitation  into  which  the 
whole  frame  of  nature  feemed  to  be  thrown  ;  the  fuper- 
natural  darknefs,  the  earthquake,  the  rending  of  rocks, 
the  opening  of  graves  ;  he  then  burft  out  involuntarily 
into  that  linking  exclamation,  "  Truly  this  was  the  Son 
of  God.^' 

Here  then  we  have  a  tefllmony  to  the  divine  chara^er 
of  our  Lord,  which  muft  be  confidered  as  in  the  higheft 
degree  impartial  and  incorrupt :  the  honeft  unfolicited  tef- 
timony  of  a  plain  man,  a  foldier  and  a  heathen  ;  the  tef- 
timony,  not  of  one  who  was  prejudiced  in  favour  of  Chrift 
and  his  religion,  but  of  one,  who,  by  habit  and  educa- 
tion, was  probably  ftrongly  prejudiced  againft  them. 

And  it  is  not  a  little  remarkable,  that  the  contemplation 
of  the  very  fame  fcene  which  fo  forcibly  ftruck  the  Ro- 
man centurion,  has  extorted  a  fimilar  confefTion  from  one 
of  the  mod  eloquent  of  modem  fceptics,  who  has  never 
been  accufed  of  too  much  credulity,  and  who,  though  he 
could  bring  himfelf  to  refill  the  evidence  both  of  prophe- 
cy and  of  miracles,  and  was  therefore  certainly  no  bigot 
to  Chriilianity,  yet  was  overwhelmed  with  the  evidence 
arihrig  from  the  characler,  the  fufferings,  and  the  death 
of  Jei'us.  I  allude  to  the  celebrated  comparifon  between 
the  death  of  Socrates  and  the  death  of  Jefus,  drawn  by 
the  mafterly  pen  of  RoulTeau.  The  pafiage  is  probably 
well  known  to  a  large  part  of  this  audience  ;  but  it  affords 
fo  forcible  and  fo  unprejudiced  a  teflimony  to  the  divinity 
of  Chrift,  and  bears  fo  linking  a  refemblance  to  that  of 
the  centurion,  that  I  fliall  be  pardoned,  I  truft,  for  bring- 
ing it  once  more  to  your  recolledlion,  and  introducing  it 
here  as  the  conclufion  of  this  Le<5lure^ 


LECTURE     XXII.  373 

''*  Where,  (fays  he,)  is  the  man,  where  Is  the  philofo- 
pher,  who  can  ad:,  fuiFer,  and  die,  without  weaknefs  and 
without  oftentation  ?  When  Plato  defcribes  his  imaginary 
juftman,  covered  with  all  the  opprobrium  of  guilt,  yet  at 
the  fame  time  meriting  the  fublimeft  rewards  of  virtue, 
he  paints  precifely  every  feature  in  the  charader  of  Jefus 
Chrift.  The  refemblance  is  fo  ftriking  that  all  the  fathers 
have  obferved  it,  and  it  is  impoffible  to  be  deceived  in  it. 
What  prejudice,  what  blindnefs  muft  pofTefs  the  mind  of 
that  man,  who  dares  to  compare  the  fon  of  Sophronifcus 
with  the  Son  of  Mary  !  What  a  diftance  is  there  between 
the  one  and  the  otlier  !  The  death  of  Socrates  philofophiz- 
ing  calmly  with  his  friends,  is  the  moft  gentle  that  can  be 
wifhed  ;  that  of  Jefus  expiring  in  torments,  infulted,  de- 
rided, and  reviled  by  all  the  people,  the  moft  horrible  that 
can  be  imagined.  Socrates  taking  the  poifoned  cup, 
bleffes  the  man  who  prefents  it  to  him  ;  and  who,  in  the 
very  a<5l  of  prefenting  it,  melts  into  tears.  Jefus,  in  the 
midft  of  the  moft  agonizing  tortures,  prays  for  his  enrag- 
ed perfecutors.  Yes,  if  the  life  and  death  of  Socrates 
are  thofe  of  a  fage,  the  life  and  death  of  Jefus  are  thofe 
of  a  GOD.'* 


«<..<..<«<..<..4..<..«..<..<..<..<„<,.<..<..*.<..4..<..<-.<..<.'<>->->">>">- >•>••>">••>••>••>•'>-►••>•■»"►••>••»»>.■.•« 


LECTURE     XXIII. 


MATTHEW   xxvll.— xxviii. 


I 


.N  the  preceding  Le£ture  we  clofed  the  difmal 
fcene  of  our  Lord's  unparalleled  fufferings  ;  on  which  it 
is  impoffible  to  refled  without  aftonifhment  and  horror, 
and  without  afking  ourfelves  this  queftion.  Whence  came 
it  to  pafs  that  fo  innocent,  lb  excellent,  fo  divine  a  perfon 
as  the  beloved  Son  of  God,  in  whom  he  was  well  pleafed, 
fhould  be  permitted  by  his  heavenly  Father  to  be  expofed 
to  fuch  indignities  and  cruelties,  and  finally  to  underga 
the  exqulfite  torments  of  the  crofs  ?  The  anfwer  is,  that 
the  occafion  of  all  this  is  to  be  fought  for  in  our  own  fmful 
nature,  in  the  depravity  and  corruption  of  the  human 
heart,  in  the  extreme  wickednefs  of  every  kind  which 
overfpread  the  whole  world  at  the  time  of  our  Lord's  ap- 
pearance upon  earth,  and  which  muft  neceflarily  have 
fubjeded  the  whole  human  race  to  the  levereft  efFe<5ts  of 
the  Divine  difpleafure,  had  not  fome  atonement,  fome 
expiation,  fome  fatisfadion  to  tlieir  offended  Maker,  been 
interpofed  between  them  and  the  punifhment  fo  juftly 
due  to  them.  This  expiation,  this  atonement,  the  Son 
of  God  himfelf  voluntarily  confentedto  become,  and  paid 
the  ranfom  required  for  our  deliverance  by  his  own  death  up- 
on the  crofs.  "  He  gave  himfelf  for  us,  as  the  Scriptures  ex- 
prefs  it,  an  offering  and  a  facrifice  to  God.  He  was  the 
Lamb  (lain  from  tlie  foundation  of  the  world.  He  fuffered 
for  fm,  the  juft  for  the  unjuft,  that  he  might  bring  us  to  God. 
He  was  wounded  for  our  tranfgreffions,  he  was  bruifed  for 
our  iniquities  ;  with  his  ftripes  we  were  healed.  In  his 
own  blood  he  waflied  us  from  our  fms ;  in  his  own  body 
he  bore  our  fms  upon  the  tree,  that  we  being  dead  unto  fm 
might  live  unto  righteoufnefs*."     This  is  that  great  doc- 

*  Ephes.  V.  ».     Rev.  xiii.  8-     i  Pet.  iii.  i8-    Ifa,  Uii.  5.    Rev- 1.5. 
I  Pet.  ii.  24. 


3^6  L  £  C  T  U  R  E     XXIII. 

trine  of  redemption,  which  is  fo  fully  expl;iined  :ind  of 
ftrongly  inlillcd  on  in  various  parts  of  the  lacrcd  writings,, 
which  forms  fo  e/fcntial  a  j^rtof  theCluiflian  fyftem,  and 
is  the  grand  foundation  of  all  our  hopes  of  pardon  and 
acceptance  at  the  great  day  of  retribuiion. 

This  mode  of  vicarious  ptinifhment,  this  fubilitutioii 
of  an  innocent  vi»^im  in  the  room  of  an  oflcnding  perfon, 
can  he  no  fyrprifc  to  any  one  tliat  ieilc<5ts  on  the  well 
Icnown  prn<flic(' of  animal  Jacriliccs  for  the  expiation  of 
guilt,  which  prevailed  univerfally,  not  only  among  the 
.lows,  but  throughout  the  whole  heathen  world  ;  and 
which  evidently  proves  it  to  have  been  the  clhiblifhed 
opinion  of  mankind,  that  (as  the  apoftle  oxprefl'es  it) 
**  without  blood  there  could  he  no  rcmifllon*." 

vStill  it  mufl  be  acknowledged,  that  in  tlie  fhipendous 
v/ork  of  our  redemption,  there  is  fomcthing  far  beyond 
the  ])ower  of  our  limited  faculties  to  comprehend. 

That  the  Son  of  God  himfelf  fhoiild  feel  fuch  compaf- 
lion  for  the  luiman  race,  for  the  wretched  ijihabitants  of 
this  fmall  Ipot  in  the  vad  fyllem  of  the  univcrfo,  as  volun- 
tarily to  undertake  the  great  and  arduous  and  painful  taflv 
of  rercuiuj",  them  from  fni  and  mileiy,  and  eternal  death  ; 
that  for  this  purpofe  lie  fhould  condefcend  to  quit  the 
hofom  of  his  Father  and  the  joys  of  heaven  ;  Ihould  di- 
vert-himfelf  of  the  glory  that  he  liad  before  the  world  be- 
gan; fliould   not  only  take   upon   himielf  the  nature  of 
man  but  tht;  form  of  a  fervant ;  iliould  i'ubmit  to  a  low 
and  indigent  condition,  to  indignities,  to   injuries  and  in- 
fults,    and  at  length   to  a  difgraccful   and  excruciating 
death,  is  indeed  a  myftery,  but  it  is  a  myllery  of  kindnefs 
and  of  mercy  ;  it  is,  as  the  apoflle  truly  calls  it,  "a  love 
that  palfeth   knowledgef ;"  a  degree  of  tendernefs,  pity, 
and  condeicenhon,    to  which  we  have  neither  Avords  nor 
conceptions  "in  any  degree  equal.     It  is  imponible  for  us 
not  to  cry  out  on  this  occafion  with  tlie  Pfalmill,  "Lord, 
what  \s  man  that  thou  art  mindful  of  Jiim,    and  the  Son 
of  man,  that  thou  vllitell  liimj  V* 

*■  Hcb-  ix.   aa-         j  Fphcs.  ili,   ip-         |  Pfalm  viii-  4- 


LECTURE     XXriT.  377*' 

But  what  efFedt  fhould  this  refledion  have  upon  our 
hearts  ?  Should  it  difpofe  us  to  join  with  the  difputer  of 
of  this  world  in  doubting  or  denying  the  wifdom  of  the 
Almighty  in  the  mode  of  our  redemption,  and  in  quar- 
relling with  the  means  he  has  made  ufe  of  to  fave  us, 
becaufe  they  appear  to  our  weak  underftandings  ftrange  and 
unaccountable  ?  Shall  the  man  who  is  finking  under  a 
mortal  difeafe,  refufe  the  medicine  which  fhall  infallibly 
reftore  him,  becaufe  he  is  ignorant  of  the  ingredients  of 
which  it  is  compofed  ?  Shall  the  criminal  who  is  condemn- 
ed to  death,  rejeft  the  pardon  that  is  unexpededly  offered 
to  him,  becaufe  he  cannot  conceive  in  what  manner  and 
by  what  means  it  was  obtained  for  him  ?  Shall  we  who 
are  all  criminals  in  the  fight  of  God,  and  are  all  adually 
(till  redeemed  by  Chrill)  under  the  fentence  of  death  ; 
lliall  we  ftrike  back  the  arm  that  is  gracioufly  ftretched 
out  to  fave  us,  merely  becaufe  the  mercy  offered  to  us  is 
fo  great  that  v/e  are  unable  to  grafp  with  our  underftand- 
ings the  whole  nature  and  extent  of  it  ?  Shall  the  very 
magnitude,  in  Ihort,  of  the  favoi'  conferred  upon  us  be 
converted  into  an  argument^  agalnft  receiving  it ;  and 
Ihall  we  determine  not  to  befaved,  becaufe  God  chufes  to 
do  it,  not  in  our  way,  but  his  own  ?  That  our  redemp- 
tion by  Chrift  is  a  myftery,  a  great  and  aftonifliing  myf- 
tery,  we  readily  acknowledge.  But  this  was  naturally  to 
be  expeded  in  a  work  of  fuch  infinite  difliculty  as  that  of 
rendering  the  mercy  of  God  in  pardoning  mankind,  con- 
fiftent  with  the  cxercife  of  his  juftice,  and  the  fupport  of 
his  authority,  as  the  moral  Governor  of  the  world.  What- 
ever could  effei5t  this  mull  neceffarily  be  fomething  far 
beyond  the  comprehenfion  of  our  narrow  underftandings ; 
that  is,  muft  neceffarily  be  myfterious.  -And  therefore 
this  very  circumftance,  inftcad  of  Ihocking  our  reafon, 
and  ftaggering  our  faith,  ouglit  to  conurm  the  one,  and' 
fatisfy  the  other. 

After  the  crucifixion  of  our  Lord  fallows  the  account 
of  his  burial  by  Jofeph  of  Arimathea,  who  went  to  Pi- 
late, and  begged  the  body  of  Jefus  ;  and  having  obtained' 
it,  wrapped  it  in  a  clean  linen  cloth,  and  laid  it  in  his  own- 
new  tomb,  wlrlch  he  had  hewn  out  of  the  rock  ;  and  he  ■ 
rolled  a" great  ftone  to  the  door  of  the  fepulchre,  and  de-- 


378  LECTURE    XXIII. 

parted.  On  this  I  fhall  make  no  other  obfervation,  than 
that  it  was  the  exaft  fulfilment  of  a  prophecy  in  Ifaiah, 
where,  fpeaking  of  the  promifed  Meffiah,  or  Chrift,  it  is 
faid,  "  he  fhall  make  his  grave  with  the  rich*."  And 
accordingly  Jofeph,  we  are  told,  was  a  rich  man,  and  an 
honourable  counfellorf . 

Now  the  next  day  that  followed  the  day  of  the  prepara- 
tion (that  is  on  the  Saturday)  the  chief  priefts  and  Phari- 
fees  came  together  unto  Pilate,  faying,  "  Sir,  we  remember 
that  that  deceiver  faid,  while  he  was  yet  alive,  after  three 
days  I  will  rife  again.  Command  therefore  that  the 
fepulchre  be  made  fure  until  the  third  day,  left  his  difciples 
come  by  night  and  fteal  him  away,  and  fay  unto  the  peo- 
ple, he  is  rifen  from  the  dead  ;  fo  the  laft  error  fhall  be 
worfe  than  the  firft.  Pilate  faid  unto  them,  Ye  have  a 
watch,  go  your  way,  make  it  as  fure  as  ye  can.  So  they 
went,  and  made  the  fepulchre  fure,  fealing  the  ftone,  and 
fetting  a  watch  J." 

Here  we  fee  the  chief'^'^fiefts  ufing  every  pofHble 
precaution  to  prevent  a  fraud.  For  this  purpofe  they  went 
to  Pilate  to  beg  for  a  guard,  immediately  after  our  Lord 
was  buried.  It  is  indeed  here  faid  that  they  went  the  next 
day  that  Jolloived  the  day  of  the  preparation,  the  day  on  which 
Jefus  was  crucified.  This  looks,  at  the  firft  view,  as  if  the 
fepulchre  had  remained  one  whole  night  without  a  guard. 
But  this  was  not  fo.  The  chief  priefts  went  to  Pilate  as 
foon  as  the  fun  was  fet  on  Friday,  the  day  of  the  prepara- 
tion and  crucifixion  ;  for  then  began  the  following  day,  or 
Saturday ;  as  the  Jews  always  began  to  reckon  their  day 
from  the  preceding  evening.  They  had  a  guard  tlierefore 
as  foon  as  tliey  poflibly  could,  after  the  body  was  depofited 
in  the  fepulchre  ;  and  one  cannot  help  admiring  the  wif- 
dom  of  Providence  in  fo  difpofmg  events,  that  the  extreme 
anxiety  of  thefe  men,  to  prevent  collufion,  fhould  be  the 
means  of  adding  the  teftimony  of  fixty  unexceptionable 
witnefles  (the  number  of  the  Roman  foldiers  on  guard)  to 
the  truth  of  the  refurreftion,  and  of  eftablifhing  the  reali- 
ty of   it  beyond  all  power  of  contradii^ion.     It  is  only 

*  Ifaiah,  liii.  9,         f  Matth"  xxvH,  57.     Mark,  xv.  43. 
%  Matth.  xxvii.  6» — 66. 


LECTURE    XXIir.  37^ 

neceflary  to  add  on  this  head,  that  the  circumftance  of 
fealing  the  ftone  was  a  precaution  of  which  feveral  inftan* 
ces  occur  in  ancient  times,  particularly  in  the  prophecy  of 
Daniel,  where  we  read,  that  when  Daniel  was  thrown  into 
the  den  of  lionS)  a  (k)ne  was  brought  and  laid  upon  the 
mouth  of  the  den,  and  the  king  fealed  it  with  his  own' 
fignet,  and  with  the  fignet  of  his  lords,  that  the  purpofe 
might  not  be  changed  concerning  Daniel*. 

The  chief  priefts  having  taken  thefe  precautions,  waited 
probably  with  no  fmall  impatience  for  the  third  day  after 
the  crucifixion,  when  Jefus  had  foretold  that  he  fhould 
rife  again,  but  when  they  made  no  doubt  that  they  fhould 
Bnd  the  body  in  the  fepulchre,  and  convict  him  of  deceit 
and  impofture. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  might  naturally  be  imagined 
that  the  difciples,  after  having  received  from  their  Lord' 
repeated  aflfurances  that  he  would  rife  on  the  third  day 
from  the  dead,  would  anxioufly  look  for  the  arrival  of 
that  day,  with  a  certain  confidence  that  thefe  promifes 
would  be  fulfilled,  and  that  they  fhould  fee  their  beloved 
Mafler  refcued  from  the  grave,  and  reflored  to  life. 

But  this  feems  to  have  been  by  no  means  the  real  ftate 
of  their  m.inds.  It  does  not  appear  that  they  entertained' 
any  hopes  of  Jefus^s  refurredion.  Shocked  and  confound- 
ed, and  difmayed  at  finding  him  condemned  to  the  igno- 
minious death  of  the  crofs,  they  forgot  every  thing  he  had 
iaid  to  them  refpe6ling  his  rifmg  again.  When  therefore 
he  was  led  to  punifh  ment,  they  all  forfook  him  and  fled. 
Mofl  of  them  feem  to  have  kept  themfelves  concealed^ 
during  the  whole  time  of  Jefus  being  in  the  grave,  and  to 
have  given  themfelves  up  to  forro w  and  defpair.  They  had 
not  even  the  courage  or  the  curlofity  to  go  to  the  fepulchre 
on  the  third  day  to  fee  whether  the  promifed  event  had  taken 
place  or  not.  When  two  of  them  going  to  Emmaus  met 
Jefus,  their  converfation  plainly  fhewed  that  they  were 
difappointed  in  their  expectations.  "  We  trufled  (faid  they) 
that  it  had  been  he  which  Ihould  have  delivered  Ifraelf  j*^ 

*  Daniel,  wi-  17,  f  Luke  xxiv.  ax< 


580  LECTURE     XXIII. 

And  when  the  women  who  had  been  at  the  fepulchre  told 
the  apoftles  that  Jefus  was  rifen,  "  their  words  feemed  t^ 
them  as  idle  tales,  and  they  believed  them  not*." 

The  women,  it  is  true,  came  to  the  fepulchre  early  in 
the  morning  of  the  third  day  ;  but  they  came  to  embalm 
the  dead  body,  and  of  courfe  not  with  the  hope  of  feeing 
a  living  one. 

So  far  then  is  perfe<5tly  clear,  that  the  difciples  were 
not  at  all  difpofed  to  be  over  credulous  on  this  occafion. 
Their  prejudices  and  prepoffeffions  lay  the  contrary  way  ; 
and  notliing  but  the  mofl  irrefiftible  evidence  would  be 
able  to  convince  them  of  a  fa<5l,  which  they  appeared  to 
think  in  the  higheft  degree  improbable. 

Let  us  now  then  fee  what  this  evidence  of  the  refurrec- 
tion  was.  In  the  beginning  of  the  28th  chapter,  on 
which  we  are  now  entering,  St.  Matthew  informs  us, 
♦*  that  in  the  end  of  the  fabbath,  as  it  began  to  dawn  to- 
wards the  firft  day  of  the  week  ;  that  is,  according  to  our 
way  of  reckoning,  very  early  on  the  Sunday  morning 
(our  Lord  having  been  crucified  on  the  Friday)  came 
Mary  Magdalen  and  the  other  Mary,  the  mother  of  James 
and  Jofes,  to  fee  die  fepulchre,  and  (as  we  learn  from  the 
other  evangelifts,)  they  brought  with  them  the  fpices  they 
had  purchafed  to  embalm  the  body  of  Jefus.  And 
behold  there  was  a  great  earthquake  :  for  the  angel  of  the 
Lord  defcended  from  heaven,  and  came  and  rolled  back 
the  ftone  from  the  door,  and  fate  upon  it.  His  counte- 
nance was  like  lightning,  and  his  raiment  white  as  fnow. 
And  for  fear  of  him  the  keepers  did  fhake,  and  became 
as  dead  men.  And  the  angel  anfwered,  and  faid  unto 
the  women.  Fear  not  ye  ;  for  I  know  that  ye  feek  Jefus 
which  was  crucified.  He  is  not  here ;  for  he  is  rifen,  as 
he  faid.  Come,  fee  the  place  where  our  Lord  lay^  and. 
go  quickly,  and  tell  his  difciples  that  he  is  rifen  from  the 
dead  ;  and  behoLi,  he  goeth  before  you  into  Galilee ; 
there  ye  fliall  fee  hiin.  Lo  !  I  have  told  you.  And  they 
departed  from  tbe  fepulchre  with  fear  and  great  joy,  and 

"  Luke  xxiv.  ii. 


LECTURE     XXIII.  38^. 

did  run  to  bring  his  difciples  word.  And  as  they  went  to 
tell  his  difciples,  behold  Jefus  met  them,  faying,  jill  haih 
and  they  came  and  held  him  by  the  feet,  and  worfhipped 
him.  Then  faid  Jefus  unto  them,  be  not  a  fraid.  Go, 
tell  my  brethren,  that  they  go  into  Galilee,  and  therq 
fhall  they  fee  me*." 

This  is  the  relation  given  by  St.  Matthew  of  our  Lord's 
firft  appearance,  after  his  ref  jrre<5lion,  to  the  women  who 
came  to  the  fepulchre.  The  accounts  given  by  the  other 
three  evangelifts  are  fubftantially  the  fame,  though  differ-  • 
ing  in  a  few  minute  circumftances  of  no  moment,  v/hich 
however  have  been  very  ably  reconciled  by  many  learned 
men.  I  fhall  therefore  wave  all  difcuflions  of  this  kind, 
and  confine  myfelf  to  the  main  fa(^  of  the  refurredion,  in 
v/hich  all  the  evangelifls  agree,  and  of  which  the  proofs 
are  numerous  and  clear. 

The  principal  and  mofl  obvious  are  thofe  which  arlfe 
from  the  various  appearances  which  Jefus  made  after  his 
refurreftion  to  various  perfons,  and  at  various  times. 

The  firft  was  to  Mary  Magdalen  alonef . 

The  fecond,  to  her  in  company  with  feveral  other  wo* 
men,  as  we  have  juft  feen:j:. 

The  third,  to  Petei-^. 

The  fourth,  to  the  two  difciples  going  to  Emmausjj. 

The  fifth,  to  the  apoftles  in  Jerufalem,  when  tliey  were 
alTembled  with  tlie  doors  Ihut  on  the  firft  day  of  the  week  ; 
at  which  time  he  fhewed  them  his  hands  and  his  feet,  pierc- 
ed v/ith  the  nails,  and  did  eat  before  them^f. 

The  fixth,  to  the  apoftles  a  fecond  time  as  they  fate  at 
meat,  when  he  fatisfied  the  doubts  of  tlie  incredulous 
Thomas,  by  making  him  thruft  his  hand  into  his  fide**. 

*  Matth.  xxviii.  i — lo.  f  Mark,  xvl    9. 

t  Matth.  xxviii.  9.  §1  Cor.  xv-  5. 

I!  Luke,  xxlv.  13.  ^  John,  xx-  19.     Luke,  xxiv,  37 — 45* 

**  John,  XK.  a6. 


3B2  LECTURE    XXIIL 

The  feventh,  to  Peter  and  feveral  of  his  difciples  at  die 
lake  o£  Tiberias,  when  he  alfo  ate  with  them*. 

The  eighth,  and  lad,  was  to  above  five  hundred  breth- 
ren  at  oncef . 

There  are  then  no  lefs  than  eight  diftincl  appearances  of 
our  Lord  to  his  difciples  after  his  refurredion,  recorded 
by  the  facred  hiftorians.  And  can  we  believe  that  al! 
thofe  different  perfons  could  be  deceived  in  thefe  ap- 
pearances of  one,  whofe  countenance,  figure,  voice,  and 
manner,  they  had  for  fo  long  a  time  been  perfedlly  well  ac- 
quainted with  ;  and  who  now,  not  merely  prefented  himfelf 
to  their  view  tranfiently  and  filently,  but  ate  and  drank 
and  converfed  with  them,  and  fuffered  them  to  touch  and 
examine  him  thoroughly,  that  they  might  be  convinced 
by  all  their  fenfes  that  it  was  truly  their  beloved  Mafter, 
and  not  a  fpirit  that  converfed  with  them.  In  all  this 
fiirely  it  is  impoflible  that  there  could  be  any  delufion  or 
rmpofition.  Was  it  then  a  tale  invented  by  the  difciples 
to  impofe  upon  others  ?  Why  they  fhould  do  this  it  is  not 
eafy  to  conceive  ;  becaufe  it  would  have  been  an  impofi- 
tion,  not  only  on  others,  but  on  themfelves.  It  would 
have  been  an  attempt  to  perfuade  themfelves  that  their 
Mafter  was  rifen  when  he  really  was  not,  from  whence  no 
poffible  benefit  could  arife  to  them,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
grief,  difippointment,  and  mortification  in  the  extreme. 
But  befides  this,  the  narratives  themfelves  of  this  great 
event  bear  upon  the  very  face  of  them  the  ftrongeft  marks 
of  reality  and  truth.  They  defcribe,  in  fo  natural  a  man- 
ner, the  various  emotions  of  the  difciples  on  their  firft 
hearing  of  our  Lord's  refurreiftion,  that  no  one  who  is  ac- 
quainted with  the  genuine  workings  of  the  human  mind, 
can  poflibly  fufpedt  any  thing  lilce  fraud  in  the  cafe.— 
When  the  women  were  firft  told  by  the  angels  that  Chrift 
vas  rifen,  and  were  ordered  to  tell  the  difciples,  they  de- 
parted quickly  from  thefepulchre  loub  fear  and  great  joyX  ; 
t»"ith  joy  at  the  unexpected  good  news  they  had  juft  heard  ; 
and  with  fear,  not  only  from  the  fight  of  the  angel,  but  left 
the  glad  tidings  he  had  told  them  fhould  not  prove  true. 

•  John,  xxi.  I.         f  X  Ccr.  xv,  6.         i  Matth.  xsviii.  8. 


LECTURE    XXIII.  383 

They  therefore  "  trembled,  and  were  amazed,  and  ran  to 
bring  the  difciples  word  ;  neither  faid  they  any  thing  to 
any  man,  for  they  were  afraid*."  And  when  they  told 
thefe  things  to  the  apoftles,  their  words  feemed  to  them  as 
idle  tales,  and  they  believed  them  notf .  When  Jefus 
himfelf  appeared  to  the  apoftles  at  Jerufalem,  they  were 
terrified  and  affrighted,  and  thought  they  had  feen  a  fpir- 
it ;  and  they  believed  not  for  joy,  and  wondered^.  When 
he  appeared  again  unto  the  eleven  as  they  fat  at  meat, 
they  were  fo  incredulous  that  he  upbraided  them  with 
their  unbelief^  ;  and  Thomas  would  not  be  convinced 
without  thrufting  his  hand  into  his  fidej!-  This  certainly 
was  not  the  behaviour  of  men  who  were  fabricating  an 
artful  ftory  to  impofe  upon  the  world,  but  of  men  who 
were  themfelves  aftonifhed,  and  overpowered  with  an 
event  which  they  did  not  in  the  leaft  expe6l,  and  which  it 
was  v.'ith  the  utmoft  difficulty  they  could  be  brought  to 
believe. 

The  account  therefore  of  the  refurredlion,  given  by  the 
evangelifts,  may  fafely  be  relied  upon  as  true. 

It  may  however  be  faid,  that  this  account  is  the  repre- 
fentation  of  friends,  of  thofe  who  were  interefted  in  avert- 
ing the  reality  of  a  refurreftion  ;  but  that  there  is  proba- 
bly another  ftory  told  by  the  oppofite  party,  by  the  Jews 
and  the  Romans,  which  may  fet  the  matter  in  a  very  dif- 
ferent point  of  view  ;  and  that  before  we  can  judge  fair- 
ly of  the  queftion,  we  muft  hear  what  thefe  have  to  fay 
upon  it  as  well  as  the  evangelifts.  This  is  certainly  very 
proper  and  reafonable.  There  is,  we  acknowledge,  ano- 
ther account  given  by  the  Jews  refpeding  the  refurrecftion 
of  Chrift  ;  and  to  ftiew  the  perfedl  fairnefs  and  impartiali- 
ty of  the  facred  hiftorians,  and  how  little  they  wifti  to 
ihrink  from  the  fevereft  inveftigation  of  the  truth,  they 
themfelves  tell  us  what  this  oppofite  ftory  was.  In  the 
Ilth  verfe  of  this  chapter,  St.  Matthew  informs  us, 
"  that  as  the  women  were  going  to  tell  the  difciples  that 
Jefus  was  rifen,  behold,  fome  of  the  watch  came  into  the 

*  Mark,  xvi.  8.  f  Luke,  xxlv.   It. 

i  Luke,  xxiv.  37 — 41*  §  Mark,  xvi.  14. 

11  John,  XX.  2;. 


S84.  LECTURE     XXIII. 

<;ity,  and  fliewed  unto  the  chief  priefts  all  the  things  that 
were  done.  And  when  they  were  affembled  with  the  eU 
ders,  and  had  taken  counlel,  they  gave  large  money  un- 
to the  foldiers,  faying,  Say  ye,  his  difciples  came  by 
night,  and  ftole  him  away  while  we  flept.  And  if  this 
come  to  the  governor's  ears,  we  will  perfuade  him,  and 
fecure  you.  So  they  took  the  money,  and  did  as  they 
were  taught.  And  this  faying  is  commonly  reported 
among  the  Jews  unto  this  day." 

This  then  is  the  flatement  of  our  adverfaries,  produced 
in  oppofition  to  that  of  the  evangelifts,  v/hich  tlie  latter 
fimply  relate  without  any  obfervation  upon  it,  without 
xondefcending  to  make  the  flightcft  anfwer  to  it,  but 
leaving  every  man  to  judge  of  it  for  himfelf.  And  thisj 
indeed  they  might  fafely  do  ;  for  it  is  a  fabrication  too 
grofs  and  too  palpable  to  impofe  on  any  man  of  common 
fenfe.  If  any  perfon  can  bring  himfelf  to  believe  that 
fixty  Roman  foldiers  fliould  be  all  fleeping  at  the  fame 
'time  on  guard  ;  that  they  fhould  be  able  to  tell  what  was 
done  in  their  ileep  ;  that  they  fhould  have  the  boldnefs  to 
^onfefs  that  they  flept  upon  their  poll,  when  they  knew 
the  puniihment  of  fuch  an  offence  to  be  death  ;  and  that 
.the  difciples  fhould  be  fo  devoid  of  all  common  fenfe  as  to 
Ileal  away  a  dead  body,  which  could  not  be  of  the  fmall- 
efh  ufe  to  them,  and  inftead  of  proving  a  refurre<5tion, 
was  a  flanding  proof  againfl  it  ;  if  any  man,  I  fay,  can 
prevail  on  himfelf  to  liflen  for  a  moment  to  fuch  abfurdi- 
ties  as  thefe,  he  may  then  give  credit  to  the  tale  of  the 
foldiers  ;  but  otlierwife  muft  treat  it,  as  it  truly  deferves, 
with  the  n:iofl  fovereign  contempt. 

This.fenfelefs  forgery  then  being  fet  afide,  and  the  body 
of  Jefus  being  gone,  and  yet  never  hmung  been  produced  by 
the  Jews  or  Romans,  there  remains  only  the  alternative  of  a 
real  refurredion. 

But  befides  the  pofitive  proofs  of  this  faifi:  which  have 
'been  here  ftated,  there  is  a  prefumptive  one  of  the  mofl 
forcible  nature,  to  which  I  have  never  yet  feen  any  anfwer, 
and  am  of  opinion  that  none  can  be  given.  The  proof  I 
allude  to  is  that  which  is  drawn  from  the  fudden  and  afton- 


LECTURE     XXIII.  385 

ifhing  change  which  took  place  in  the  language  and  the 
conduct  of  the  apoftles,  immediately  after  the  period  whea 
they  affirmed  that  Jefus  had  rifen  from  the  dead.  From 
being,  as  we  have  feen,  timorous  and  dejeded,  and  dis- 
couraged at  the  death  of  their  Mailer,  they  fuddenly  be- 
came courageous,  undaunted,  and  intrepid  :  and  they 
boldly  preached  that  very  Jefus,  whom  before  they  had 
deferted  in  his  greatefl  diftrefs.  This  obfervation  will  ap- 
ply, in  fome  degree,  to  all  the  apoftles  ;  but  with  regard 
to  St.  Peter  more  particularly  it  holds  with  peculiar  force. 

One  of  the  moft  prominent  features  in  the  character  of 
St.  Peter  (a  charader  moft  admirably  pourtrayed  by  the 
€vangelifts)  is  timidity  of  difpofition.  We  fee  it  in  the 
terror  that  feized  him  when  he  was  walking  on  the  fea  ; 
we  fee  it  in  his  deferting  his  divine  Mafter  when  he  was 
apprehended  ;  then  turning  back  to  follow  him,  but  fol- 
lowing at  a  diftance  ;  not  daring  to  go  into  the  council 
chamber  when  he  was  examined,  but  ftaying  in  the  outer 
court  with  the  fervants  ;  and  at  length,  when  he  was  chal- 
lenged as  one  of  his  difciples,  denying  three  times  witli  the 
moft  dreadful  oaths  and  imprecations,  that  he  knew  any 
thing  of  him,  or  had  the  flighteft  connexion  with  him. 

This  is  the  point  of  view  in  which  St.  Peter  prefents 
himfelf  to  us  juft  before  our  Loid's  crucifixion. 

Turn  now  to  the  fourth  chapter  of  the  Acfts,  and  fee 
what  his  language  then  vv^as  after  Jefus  had  actually  been 
put  to  death. 

He  and  John  having  healed  the  lame  man  whom  they 
found  fitting  at  the  gate  of  the  temple,  were  apprehend- 
ed, and  thrcv/n  into  prifon,  and  the  next  day  were  called 
upon  to  anfwer  for  their  condu»5l  before  the  high  prieft, 
and  the  other  chief  rulers  of  the  Jews.  And  upon  being 
queftioned  by  what  power  and  by  what  name  they  had 
performed  tliis  miraculous  cure,  Peter  anfwered  them  In 
thefe  refolute  terms.  "  Ye  rulers  of  the  people,  and  el- 
ders of  Ifrael,  if  we  be  this  day  examined  of  the  good 
deed  done  to  the  impotent  man,  by  what  means  he  is  made 
•vliole,  be  it  knov/n  unto  you  all,  and  to  all  the  people  of 
C  c 


S86  LECTURE     XXIIL 

ifrael,  that  by  the  name  of  Jefus  Chrift  of  Nazareth, 
whom  ye  cruciiied,  whom  God  laifed  from  the  dead, 
even  by  him  doth  this  man  ftand  before  you  whole. 
This  is  the  ftone  which  was  fet  at  nought  by  you  builders, 
which  is  become  the  head  of  the  comer.  Neither  is  there 
falvation  in  any  other.  For  there  is  none  other  name  un- 
der iieaven  given  among  men  whereby  we  muft  be  fav- 
ed*."  And  when,  foon  after  this,  Peter  and  John  v/ere 
tbaitly  threatened,  and  commanded  not  to  fpeak  at  all, 
or  teach  in  the  name  of  Jefus,  they  anfwered  and  faid  un- 
to them,  "  Whether  it  be  right  in  the  fight  of  God  to 
hearken  unto  you  rather  than  unto  God,  judge  ye  ;  for 
we  cannot  but  fpeak  the  things  which  we  have  feen  and 
iieardf." 

What  now  is  this  tliat  we  hear  ?  Is  this  the  man  v;ho, 
•but  a  fhort  time  before,  had  fhamefally  renounced  his 
divine  Mafter,  and  declared,  with  the  utmoft  vehemence 
and  paffion,  that  he  was  utterly  unknown  to  him  ?  And 
does  this  fame  man  now,  after  the  crucifixion  of  his  Lord, 
and  when  he  himlelf  was  a  prifoner,  and  had  reafon 
to  expert  a  fimilar  fate,  does  this  man  boldly  tell  thofe  in 
whofe  power  he  was,  that  by  the  name  of  this  very  Jefus 
he  had  healed  the  lame  man  ?  Does  he  dare  to  reprove 
them  with  having  crucified  the  Lord  of  life  ?  Does  he 
dare  to  tell  them  that  God  had  raifed  him  from^  the  dead  ; 
that  tliere  was  no  other  name  under  heaven  by  which  they 
<:ould  be  laved  ;  and  that,  in  defiance  of  all  their  inter- 
did  ions  and  all  their  menaces,  he  muft  and  would  ft  ill 
continue  to  fpeak  what  he  had  feen  and  heard  ? 

Li  what  manner  fliall  we  account  for  tliis  fudden  and 
aftonifhing  alteration  in  the  language  of  St.  Peter  ?  There 
is,  I  will  venture  to  aflert,  no  other  pofllble  way  of  account- 
ing for  it,  but  from  that  very  circumftance  which  St.  Pe- 
ter himfelf  mentions  in  his  fpeech  to  the  high  prieft,  name- 
ly, "  tliat  he  Avhom  they  had  crucified  was,  by  the  almighty 
pcAver  of  God,  raifed  from  the  deadij:."  It  was  this 
cliangc  in  the  cc)ndition  of  his  divine  Mafter,  whicli  pro- 
duced a  covrefpondcnt  change  in  the  charadlcr  and  con- 
duit of  St.   Peter.      It  was  this  miracle  of  our  Lord's  ref- 

*  Adl.',  Iv,  8.  iz.        t  Av^iSj  iv.   1 8.  :o.  \  A^s,  ly,  lo- 


LECTURE     XXIIL  S87 

nrreftion,  which  could  alone  have  produced  the  almoit 
equally  aftonifliing  miracle  of  St.  Peter's  complete  tranf- 
formation.  Had  Jefus  never  rifen  from  the  dead,  as  he 
had  repeatedly  promifed  to  do,  he  Vv^ould  have  been  a  de- 
ceiver and  an  impoftor  ;  and  that  St.  Peter,  knowing  this, 
(hould  openly  and  boldly  profefs  himfelf  his  difciple 
when  dead,  after  having  moft  peremptorily  denied  him 
and  difclaimed  all  knowledge  of  him  when  living,  and 
Ihould  expofe  himfelf  to  the  moil  dreadful  dangers  in  af- 
ferting  a  fa6t  which  he  knew  to  be  falfe,  and  for  the  fake 
of  a  man  who  had  moft  cruelly  deceived  and  difappoint- 
ed  him,  is  a  fuppofition  utterly  repugnant  to  every  princi" 
pie  of  human  nature,  and  every  dictate  of  common  fenfe, 
and  an  abfurdity  too  grofs  for  the  moft  determined  infidel 
to  maintain* 

We  have  here  then  one  more  proof,  in  addition  to  all 
the  reft,  of  the  refurredion  of  Chrift,  intelligible  to  the 
lovveft,  and  convincing  to  the  moft  improved  underftand- 
ing.  And  that  this  was  the  great  decifive  fad:  which  ope- 
rated fo  furprizing  a  revolution  in  the  mind  of  St.  Peter^ 
is  ftill  further  confirmed  by  the  ftrefs  which  he  himfelf  laid 
upon  it,  in  his  anfwer  to  the  high  prieft,  and  by  the  conftant 
appeal  which  he  and  all  the  other  apofties  made  to  this 
argument,  in  preference  to  every  other  ;  for  v\^e  are  told 
that  "  with  great  power  gave  the  apofties  witnefs  of  the 
refurredion  of  the  Lord  Jefus,  and  great  grace  was  upon 
them  all*."  And  St.  Paul  goes  fo  far  as  to  make  the 
belief  of  this  fmgle  article  the  main  ground  and  bafis  of 
our  falvation.  "  If  thou  fhalt  ccnfefs  with  thy  moutli 
the  Lord  Jefus,  and  (halt  believe  in  thine  heart  that  God 
hath  raifed  him  from  the  dead,  thou  fhalt  be  favedf  .'^ — 
The  reafon  of  this  is,  becaufe  the  belief  of  the  refurrec- 
tion  of  Chrift  unavoidably  leads  to  the  belief  of  the  whole 
Chriftian  religion,  to  the  truth  of  v/hich  God  fet  his  feal, 
by  raifing  the  author  of  it  from  the  dead  :  and  the  belief 
of  the  Chriftian  revelation,  if  genuine  and  fmcere,  will, 
with  the  bleffing  of  God  on  our  own  ftrenuous  exertions, 
produce  all  thofe  Chriftian  graces  and  virtues,  which, 
througli  the  merits  of  our  Redeemer,  will  render  our 
final  calling  and  eledlion  fure, 

*  A^^  iv.  33.  f  Rom,  X.  9. 


388  LECTURE     XXIII. 

The  refurredlion  of  Chrift  being  thus  eftablifhed  on  the 
Hrmeft  grounds,  the  concluiions  to  be  drawn  from  it  are 
many  and  important ;  but  I  Ihall  at  prefent  confine  myfelf 
to  two  of  them  ;  which  feem  more  particularly  to  deferve 
our  notice. 

The  firll  is,  that  this  great  event  of  the  refurrec^ion 
affords  a  clear  and  decifive  proof  that  Jefus  was  what  he 
pretended  to  be,  the  Son  of  God;  that  the  religion  he 
taught  came  from  God ;  that  confequently  every  dodrine 
he  delivered  ought  to  be  believed,  every  command  he 
gave  to  be  obeyed,  and  that  every  thing  he  promifed  or 
threatened  will  certainly  come  to  pafs.  For  had  not  his 
pretenfions  been  well  founded,  and  his  religion  true,  it  is 
impoflible  that  the  God  of  truth  could  have  given  them 
the  fandtion  of  his  authority,  by  raifmg  him  from  the 
dead.  But  by  doing  this,  he  gave  the  ftrongeft  poffible 
atteftation  to  the  reality  of  his  divine  million. 

The  next  inference  from  this  fadl  is,  that  the  refurrec- 
iion  of  Chrift  is  an  earneft,  a  pledge,  and  a  proof  of  our 
own.  He  had  promifed  his  difciples,  "  that  where  he 
was,  there  ihould  they  be  alfo :"  And  the  fcriptures  in 
numberlefs  places  aifure  us,  that  we  ftiall  rife  again  from 
the  grave,  and  become  immortal.  Now  thefe  promifes 
receive  the  ftrongeft  confirmation  from  his  refurredlion, 
v/hich  fhows,  in  the  moft  ftriking  and  fenfible  manner, 
that  our  bodies  are  capable  of  being  raifed  to  life  again, 
and  that  God  will  adually  re-animate  them,  as  he  did 
-that  of  Jefus.  In  this  our  Saviour  adled  conformably  to 
the  fpirit  and  genius  of  his  religion,  and  to  his  conftant 
•method  of  teaching,  v/hich  was,  to  inftru<5t  mankind  by 
fa^fls  rather  than  by  words.  It  was  his  intention  (and 
thanks  be  to  God  tliat  it  was)  that  our  faith  fliould  ftand, 
not  in  the  w^ifdom  or  eloquence  of  man,  but  in  the  de- 
monftration  of  the  fpirit  and  of  power.  He  went  about 
therefore,  not  only  preaching  the  word,  but  doing  good, 
•doing  good  miraculoufly,  making  the  principles  and  the 
evidences  of  his  religion  palpable  to  the  fenfes  of  man- 
kind. When  John  fent  to  knov/  whether  he  was  the  ex- 
peifted  Mcfilah  or  no,  Jefus,  inftead  of  entering  into  a 
long  and  laboured  proof  of  his  divinity,   took  die  more 


LECTURE     XXIII.  389 

compendious  and  convincing  way  of  proving  his  point,  by 
performing  in  that  inftant  many  miraculous  cures,  and 
then  referring  the  Baptift  to  what  his  melTengers  had  feen 
and  heard.*  In  the  very  fame  manner,  in  the  prefent 
inftance,  the  afTurance  he  gave  us  of  our  refurredlion  was 
not  fpeculative  and  argumentative,  but  pradlical  and 
vifible.  A  thoufand  objeftions  might  have  been  formed 
by  the  fafhionable  philofophers  of  that  age  againil  the 
pofFibiHty  of  reftoring  breath  to  a  dead  body,  and  raifmg 
it  ahve  again  from  the  grave.  Our  Lord  could  very  eafily 
have  fhown,  by  unanfwerable  arguments,  the  futility  and 
abfurdity  of  any  fuch  objedions.  But  the  difputers  of  this 
world  would  have  cavilled  and  objeded  without  end.  And 
therefore,  to  put  an  effedlual  ftop  to  all  fuch  idle  controver- 
fy,  and  to  convince  all  tlie  world  that  it  was  not  a  thing 
incredible  that  God  fhould  raife  the  dead,  he  hlmfelf  rofe 
again  from  the  grave,  and  became  the  firft  fruits  of  tliem 
that  flept.  He  triumphed  over  death,  he  threw  open  the 
gates  of  everlafting  life  ;  and  whoever  treads  in  his  fteps  as 
nearly  as  they  can  through  life,  fhall  follow  him  through 
death  into  thofe  blefled  regions  where  he  is  gone  before  to 
prepare  a  place  for  fuch  as  love  and  imitate  him.  "  For 
if  the  fpirit  of  him  who  raifed  up  Jefus  from  the  dead 
dwell  in  you,  he  that  raifed  up  Chrift  from  the  dead  fhall 
alfo  quicken  your  mortal  bodies  by  his  fpirit  that  dwelleth 
in  youf ." 

Since  then  we  have  fuch  expectations  and  fuch  hopes, 
what  manner  of  perfons  ought  we  to  be  in  all  holy  con- 
verfatlon  and  godlinefs  ?  The  ancient  heathen  might  fay, 
the  unbelieving  libertine  may  ftill  fay,  let  us  eat  and  drink> 
for  to-morrow  we  die  ;  let  us  enjoy,  without  referve,  and 
without  meafure,  all  the  pleafures  which  this  world  af- 
fords, for  to-morrow  we  may  leave  it,  and  we  know  of 
no  other.  But  how  abfurd  would  it  be  for  the  Chrijl'ian  to 
fay  this,  how  mad  would  it  be  for  him  to  act  accordingly, 
w^hen  he  knows,  that  though  to-morrow  his  foul  may  be 
feparated  from  his  body,  yet  that  they  will  be  again  united, 
and  live  for  ever  in  a  future  ftate  of  exiftence  ?  What  an 
amazing  difference  does  this  fa6t  make  in  our  circumftan- 
ces,  and  how  inexcufable  fhall  we  be,  if  it  does  not  pro- 

*  Matth.  xi-  4.  f  Rom.  viii,  11. 


S90  LECTURE     XXIII. 

duce  a  fultable  difference  in  our  conduct  !  Even  the  poffi- 
hility  of  fuch  an  event  muft  have  a  powerful  influence  over 
our  mind  and  manners ;  what  then  muft  be  the  cafe  when 
it  amounts,  as  it  does  with  every  fmcere  believer  in  the 
Gofpel,  to  ahfolute  certainly  ?  With  what  cheerfulnefs 
Hiall  we  acquiefce  under  poverty  and  misfortunes,  vrhen 
we  refleft,  that  if  we  bare  them  patiently,  and  hold  faft 
our  integrity,  thefe  light  afflictions,  wliich  are  but  for  a 
moment,  fhall  work  out  for  us  a  far  more  exceeding  and 
eternal  weight  of  glory  !  With  what  indifference  fhall  we 
contemplate  the  charms  of  wealth  and  power,  with  what 
horror  fhall  we  turn  away  from  the  pleafurer,  of  fin,  Vv^hicli 
are  but  for  a  feafon,  when  we  know  that  the  one  may,  and 
the  other  moft  certainly  w/7/,  cut  us  off  from  an  eternal 
and  invaluable  inlieritance* 

Suppcfe  yourfelves  for  a  moment  in  fome  foreign  king- 
dom, where,  after  having  been  obliged  to  fpend  many 
years,  you  are  at  length  fuffered  to  return  to  your  own 
country.  Suppofe  further,  that  in  this  country  you  have 
left  families  that  are  infinitely  dear  to  you,  friends  whom 
you  exceedingly  love  and  efteem,  wealth  and  honors  to 
the  utmoft  extent  of  your  wiflies.  When,  with  the  mofl 
impntient  longings  after  all  thefe  bleffings,  you  fet  out 
upon  your  return  to  your  native  land,  will  any  allure- 
ments that  you  meet  with  on  the  road  tempt  you  from 
your  main  objed  ?  Will  any  accidental  hardfliips  or  in- 
conveniencies  dcter  you  from  purfuing  your  journey  ?  Will 
you  not  break  through  all  obftru6tions,  refift  all  tempta- 
tions, andprefs  forwards  with  alacrity  and  vigour  towards 
your  beloved  liome  ?  And  wliy  then  will  you  not  feek 
your  heavenly  country  with  the  fame  ardour  and  perfever- 
ance  that  you  would  your  earthly  one  ?  You  are  all  "  flran- 
gers  and  pilgrims  upon  earth."  This  world  is  ncit  your 
home,  though  you  are  too  apt  to  think  it  fo.  You  belong 
to  another  city,  you  are  fubje<5ls  of  a  better  kingdom, 
where  infinitely  greater  joys  await  you  than  have  been 
juft  defcribed,  or  can  by  the  utmoft  ftretch  of  imagination 
be  conceived.  Every  day  you  live,  every  moment  you 
breath,  brings  you  nearer  to  this  country ;  and  the  grave 
itfelf,  difmal  as  it  appears,  is  nothing  more  thi-.n  the  gatz 
that  leads  you  into  it. 


LECTURE     XXIII.  391 

Coiifcious  tlien  of  the  dignity  and  importance  of  our 
high  and  heavenly  calhng,  which  renders  us  candidates 
for  the  kingdonn  of  God,  and  heirs  of  immortality,  let 
us  perfevcre  fteadily  and  uniformly,  in  our  progrefs  to- 
wards tliofe  celeftial  manfions,  which  are  prepared  for  all 
the  faithful  fervants  of  Chrift  ;  where  we  fliall  he  releafed 
from  all  the  endlefs  anxieties,  the  vain  hopes,  and  caufe- 
lefs  fears  that  now  agitate  and  difquiet  us ;  and  fhall, 
througli  the  merits  of  our  Redeemer,  be  rewarded,  not 
merely  with  unintenaipted  tranquility  and  repofe,  (the 
utmoft  felicity  of  the  pagan  elyfmm)  ;  not  merely  with  a 
vifionary  poftliumous  reputation,  which  commences  not 
till  we  are  incapable  of  enjoying  it ;  but  with  a  crown  of 
glory  that  fadeih  not  away,  a  real  immortality  in  the  king- 
dom of  our  Father  and  our  God. 


■•<-4..<   <.<.<.<.. 


<  •<  •<  •<  ■<  ■<  •<  •<  •<••<  •<  ■<  ■<>..>..>.>.>..>..>..>.>M>..>..>..>..>„>..^„>..^.  ^..^..^  ^_ 


LECTURE    XXIV. 


MATTHEW    xxvi;;.. 


T. 


HE  laft  Ledture  ended  with  the  hiftoty  of  our 
Lord's  refurredlion.  The  evangelift  then  proceeds  to  give 
a  concife  account  of  what  pafied  after  that  great  event 
had  taken  place. 

"  Then,  fays  he,  the  eleven  difciples  went  av/ay  into- 
Gahlee,  into  a  mountain,  where  Jefus  had  appointed 
them*." 

By  the  eleven  difciples  he  means  the  apoftles,  who, 
though  originally  twelve,  were  now  reduced  to  eleven, 
by  the  defedtion  and  death  of  Judas.  Thefe  Jefus  had 
commanded  to  meet  him  in  Galilee.  "  Go,  tell  my 
brethren,  fays  he  to  the  women,  that  they  go  into  Galilee, 
and  there  fhall  they  fee  me."  There  therefore  the  apof- 
tles went  about  eight  days  after  the  refurredHon,  and 
many  others  with  them  ;  for  this  probably  was  the  time 
and  the  place  when  he  fbewed  himfelf  to  about  five  hun- 
dred brethren  at  once.  "  And  when  they  faw  him  they 
worfhipped  him  ;  butfome  doubted."  Here  we  have  the 
authority  of  the  apoftles  themfelves  for  the  worfnip  of 
Chrift.  The  women,  when  they  firft  faw  Jefus,  paid  him 
the  fame  adoration  ;  "  they  came  and  held  him  by  the 
feet,  and  worfhipped  himf ."  But  fome,  it  is  added^ 
doubted.  And  where  can  be  the  wonder,  if  among  five 
hundred  perfons  there  fhould  be  two  or  three,  who,  like 
the  difciples  mentioned  by  St.  Luke  J,  believed  not  for  joy, 
and  wondered;  that  is  (as  is  very  natural)  were  afraid  to 
believe  what  they  fo  ardently  wilhed  to  be  true  ;  or  who, 
like  St.  Thomas,  would  not  believe,  unlefs  they  touched 
the  body  of  Jefus,  and  thruft  their  hands  into  his  fides. 

*  Matth.  xxviii.  16         f  Mattli    xxviii,  9.         i  Ch-  xxiv-  41- 


LECTURE     XXIV/  ^95 

Bat  their  doubts,  like  his,  were  probably  foon  removed^ 
This  circumftance  therefore  only  ferves  to  fliew  the  fcru- 
pulous  fidehty  of  the  facred  hiftorians,  who,  like  honeft 
men,  fairly  tell  you  every  thing  that  pafTed  on  this  and 
on  limilar  occafions,  whethrer  it  appears  to  make  for  them 
or  againft  them. 

"  And  Jefus  came  and  fpake  unto  them,  faying,  alt 
power  is  given  unto  me  in  heaven  and  in  earth.*' 

In  his  divine  nature  he  had  this  power  from  all  eternity  ;. 
but  it  was  now  to  be  exercifed  in  his  human  nature  alfo, 
which,  from  a  ftate  of  humiliation,  from  the  form  of  a 
fervanty  was  foon  to  be  exalted  to  the  higheft  dignity,  and 
placed  at  tlie  right  hand  of  God.  Accordingly  St.  Paul 
informs  us,  that,  "  God  raifed  our  Lord  from  the  dead, 
and  fet  him  at  his  own  right  hand  in  the  heavenly  places, 
far  above  all  principality,  and  power,  and  might,  and  do- 
minion, and  every  name  that  is  named,  not  only  in  this 
world,  but  in  that  which  is  to  come  :  and  put  all  things 
under  his  feet,  and  gave  him  to  be  the  head  over  all  things 
to  the  church,  which  is  his  body,  the  fiilnefs  of  him  that 
fiUeth  all  in  all*."  And  again,  in  his  Epiftle  to  the  Phi- 
llppians,  he  fays,  that  "  God  has  highly  exalted  him, 
and  given  him  a  name  which  is  above  every  name ;  that 
TkI  the  name  of  Jefus  every  knee  fliould  bow,  of  things  in 
heaven,  and  things  in  earth,  and  things  under  the  earth  ; 
and  that  every  tongue  fhould  ccnfefs  that  Jefus  Chrill  rs 
Lord,  to  the  glory  of  God  the  Fatherf ."  In  the  fame 
magnificent  language  he  is  fpoken  of  in  the  book  of  Reve- 
lations ;  "  Worthy  is  the  Lamb  that  was  llain  to  receive 
power,  and  riches,  and  v/ifdom,  and  ftrength,  and  honor,, 
and  glory,  and  blefTmg.  And  again,  Bleding,  and  honor, 
and  glory,  and  power,  be  unto  him  that  fitteth  upon  the 
throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb,  foy  ever  and  ever  J." 

Such  is  the  dignity  of  the  Lord  and  Mafter  whom  we 
ferve  ;  and  fuch  is  that  authority  witli  which,  in  the  two 
concluding  verfes  of  this  chapter,  he  gives  his  laft  com- 
mand  to  his  apoftles :  "  Go  ye,  and  teach  all  nations, 
baptizing  them  in  the  name  ot    the  Father,  and  of  the 

•  Ei^hes   i    2C— 23<        f  Philip,  ii-  9 — 11.        \  Rev,  v.  12,  13. 


394.  LECTURE     XXIV. 

Son,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghoft  ;  teaching  them  to  oblerve 
all  thhigs  whatever  I  have  commanded  you  ;  and  lo  !  I 
am  with  you  alway,    even  unto  the  end  of  the  world." 

The  ceremony  then  by  which  our  Lord*s  difciples  were 
to  be  admitted  into  his  religion,  was  baptifm.  This  was 
fometimes  ufed  by  the  Jews  on  the  admiffion  of  profelytes, 
and  by  the  heathens  on  initiation  into  their  myfleries. 
But  the  baptifm  of  Chriftians  was  to  be  accompanied 
witli  a  peculiar  form  of  words,  w^hich  diftinguifhed  it 
from  every  other.  They  were  to  be  baptized  in  the  name 
cf  the  Father,  the  So/iy  and  the  Holy  Ghojl.  This  form  of 
words  has  accordingly  been  ufed  in  the  Chriftian  church, 
from  the  earlieft  times  down  to  the  prefent ;  and  is,  as 
you  all  know,  the  mode  of  baptifm  adopted  and  conftant- 
iy  practifed  by  the  Church  of  England.  And  it  is  re- 
markable, not  only  on  this  account,  but  as  being  alfo  one 
principal  ground  of  a  very  diftinguifhed  doftrine  of  the 
Gofpel,  and  of  the  Church  of  England,  the  dodrine  of 
the  Trinity.  For  the  plain  and  natural  interpretation  of 
the  words  is,  that  by  being  baptized  in  the  name  of  the 
Eather,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghoft,  we  are  dedicated 
and  confecrated  equally  to  the  fervice  of  each  of  thofe 
three  divine  perfons  ;  we  are  made  the  fervants  and  difci- 
ples of  each,  and  are  confequently  bound  to  honor,  wor- 
jTiip,  and  obey  each  of  them  equally.  This  evidently 
implies  an  equality  in  their  nature,  and  "  that  all  the 
fulnefsof  the  Godhead  dwells  in  each."  In  confirmation 
cf  this,  we  find  in  various  parts  of  Scripture,  that  all  the 
attributes  of  divinity  are  afcribed  to  each.  And  yet,  as 
the  unity  of  the  Supreme  Being  is  every  where  taught  in 
the  fame  Scriptures,  and  is  a  fundamental  article  of  our 
religion,  we  are  naturally  led  to  conclude  with  our  church 
in  its  firft  article,  "  That  there  is  but  one  living  and  true 
God,  of  infinite  power  and  wifdom,  the  maker  and  pre- 
ferver  of  all  tilings,  vifible  and  invifible  ;  and  that,  in  the 
unity  of  this  Godhead,  there  are  tliree  perfons,  of  one 
fubftance,  power,  and  eternity,  the  Father,  the  Son,  and 
the  Holy  Ghoft." 

That  this  is  a  very  rayfterious'dotTrrine  we  do  not  deny  ; 
but  it  is  not  more  fo  than  many  other  do(5trines  of   the 


LECTURE     XXIV,  395 

Chriftian  revelation,  which  we  all  admit,  and  which  we 
cannot  reje<5t  without  fubverting  the  foundation,  and  de- 
ftroying  the  very  fubftance  and  efience  of  our  religion* 
The  miraculous  birth  and  incarnation  of  our  blefied  Lord, 
his  union  of  the  human  nature  with  the  divine,  his  re- 
demption of  mankind,  and  his  expiation  of  their  fins  by 
liis  death  upon  the  crofs  ;  thefe  are  dodlrines  plainly  taught 
in  Scripture,  and  yet  as  incomprehenfible  to  our  finite 
imderftandings  as  the  dodrine  of  three  perfons  and  one 
God.  But  what  we  contend  for  m  all  thefe  inftances  is^ 
that  thefe  myfteries,  although  confeiTedly  above  our  reafon, 
are  not  contrary  to  it.  This  is  a  plain  and  a  well-known 
diftindion,  and  in  tlie  prefent  ciife  an  incontrovertible  one. 
No  one  for  inllance  can  fay,  that  tlie  fuppofition  of  three 
perfons  and  one  God  is  contrary  to  reafon.  We  cannot, 
indeed,  comprehend  fuch  a  diftinftion  in  the  divine  nature  j 
but  unlefs  we  knew  perfe&ly  what  that  nature  is,  it  is  im- 
poiTible  for  us  to  fay  that  fuch  a  diftin^lion  may  not  fub- 
fift  in  it  confident  with  its  unity.  The  truth  is,  on  a  fub- 
jc6t  v/here  we  have  no  clear  ideas  at  all,  our  reafoning 
faculties  tmijl  fail  us,  and  we  mnft  be  content  to  fubmit 
(as  well  we  may)  to  the  clear  and  explicit  declarations  of 
holy  writ.  It  is  indeed  natural  for  the  human  mind  to 
wifh  that  every  thing  in  religion  fliould  be  intelligible  and 
plain,  and  that  there  fliould  be  no  difficulties  to  perplex 
and  ftagger  our  faitli.  But  natural  as  this  wifh  may  be, 
is  it  a  reafonable  one  ?  Do  we  find,  that  in  the  moft  im- 
portant concerns  of  the  prefent  life,  in  thofe  where  our 
moft  elfential  interefts,  our  property,  our  welfare,-  our 
health,  our  reputation,  our  very  life  are  at  ftake,  that  no 
difficulties,  no  perplexities,  no  intricacies  occur;  that 
every  thing  is  plain  and  level  before  us,  and  that  we  are 
never  at  a  lofs  how  to  <\S.,  what  opinion  to  form,  or  what 
courfe  to  take  ?  There  are  few,  I  fancy,  here  prefent, 
whofe  experience  has  not  taught  them,  to  their  coft,  the 
very  reverfe  of  all  this.  If  then,  even  in  the  ordinary 
affairs  of  life,  there  is  fo  much  difficulty,  doubt,  and  ob- 
fcurity,  how  can  we  wonder  to  find  it  in  religion  alfo,  in 
thofe  enquiries  that  relate  to  an  invifible  world  and  an 
mvifible  Being,  "  to  thehigli  and  lofty  One  that  inhabitetk 
eternity*?" 

*  "  So  far  is  it  from  being  true    (as  fome  one  has  faid)  that  where 
tnyflery  begins  religion  ends;    that  religion,    even  natiiral  reiigioDj 


396  LECTURE     XXIV. 

And  let  it  never  be  forgotten  that  myfterles  are  not  (as 
is  often  infmuated,  and  often  taken  for  granted)  peculiar 
to  the  Chriftian  religion.  They  belong  to  all  religions, 
even  to  that  which  is  generally  fuppofed  to  be  of  all 
others  the  leaft  incumbered  with  difficulties,  pure  deifm  ; 
or,  as  it  is  fometimes  called,  the  rehgion  of  nature,  of 
reafon,  or  of  philofophy. 

Who,  for  inftance,  can  grafp  with  the  utmoft  ftretch  of 
his  underftandhig,  the  idea  of  an  eternal  Being ;  of  a 
Being  whofe  exiftence  never  had  any  beginning,  and  never 
will  have  an  end  ?  Where  is  the  man,  whofe  thoughts  are 
not  loft  and  confounded  in  contemplating  the  immenfity  of 
a  God,  who  is  intimately  prefent  to  every  part  of  the  uni-. 
verfe  ;  who  fees,  with  equal  cleamefs,  a  kingdom  perifh 
and  a  fparrow  fall,  and  to  whom  every  thought  of  our 
hearts  is  perfedly  well  known*  ?  Who  can  reconcile  that 
foreknowledge  of  future  and  contingent  events,  which  is 
an  unqueftionable  attribute  of  the  Almighty,  with  that 
free-will  and  free  agency,  which  are  no  lefs  unqueftionable 
properties  of  man  ?  Who,  in  fine,  can  account,  on  the 

begins  with  a  mvftery,  with  the  grated  of  all  myfterles,  the  felf- 
exiftence  and  eternity  of  God.  Let  any  one  tell  us  how  an  eternity 
can  be  paft,  unlefs  it  was  once  prefent,  and  how  that  can  be  once 
prefent  which  never  had  a  beginning."  Seed's  Sermons,  v.  ^  S  7. 
459- 

*  "  J'apper5ol8  Dieu  partout  dans  fes  ceuvres.  Je  le  fens  en  moi, 
je  le  vois  tout  autcur  de  moi ;  mais  fitot  que  je  veux  le  contempler  en 
Jui  meme,  fitot  que  je  veux  chcrcher  ou  ii  eft,  ce  qu'il  eft,  quelle  eft  fa 
fubftance,  il  m'echappe,  &  mon  efprit  trouble  n*  apper9oit  plus  rien. 
Rouffeau,  v.  8.  p-  32.  Enfin  plus  je  m'  efForce  de  contempler  fon 
effence  infinie,  moins  je  la  con9ois ;  mats  elle  eji^  cela  me  fuifit ;  moins 
je  la  Contois  plus  je  I'adore." 

I  have  cited  thcfc  fine  paffages  from  the  eloquent  Rouffeau  in  his 
own  language  (.for  no  tranflation  can  do  juftlce  to  them)  becaufe  no 
arguments  are  fo  convincing  as  thofe  which  are  drawn  from  the  con- 
ceffions  of  fceptics  themfelvc?::,  which  fall  from  them  incidentally  and 
undefignedly ;  and  becaufe  the  fentiments  here  quoted  ftand  in  diredl 
c«ntradiAion  to  that  writer's  cavils  in  other  places  againft  the  Chrif- 
tian myfteries.  For  if  notwithftanding  the  difficulties  which  attend 
the  contemplation  of  tlie  Deity  himfelf,  he  firmly  believes  his  exiftence, 
•a  what  ground  can  he  make  his  Savoiard  vicar  doubt  the  truth  of  the 
Gofpel  on  account  cf  its  myfteriesf  ?  • 

t  V.  viii.  p.  93. 


LECTURE     XXIV.  397 

principles  of  mere  natural  religion,  for  the  introduftlon  of 
natural  and  moral  evil  into  the  works  of  a  benevolent 
Creator,  whofe  infinite  goodnefs  muft  neceffarily  incline 
him  to  intend  the  happinefs  of  all  his  creatures  ? 

Thefe  confiderations  may  ferve  to  fhew,  and  it  might 
be  fhewn  in  various  other  cafes,  that  it  is  in  vain  to  exped: 
an  exemption  from  difficulty  and  myftery  In  any  religion 
whatever.  The  real  truth  is,  that  not  only  the  religion 
of  nature,  but  the  philofophy  of  nature,  the  works  of 
nature,  the  whole  face  of  nature,  are  full  of  myftery  ; 
we  live  and  move  in  the  midft  of  myftery*.  And  if,  to 
avoid  this,  we  have  recourfe  to  atheifm  itfelf,  even  that 
will  be  found  to  be  more  incumbered  with  difficulties,  and 
to  require  a  greater  degree  of  faithy  than  all  the  religions 
in  the  world  put  together. 

Let  not  then  the  myfteries  of  the  Gofpel  ever  be  a  rock 
of  offence  to  you,  or  in  any  degree  ftiake  the  conftancy  of 
your  faith.  They  are  infepafable  from  any  religion  that 
is  fuited  to  the  nature,  to  the  wants,  and  to  the  fallen  ftate 
of  fuch  a  creature  as  man.  When  once  we  are  convinc- 
ed that  the  Scriptures  are  the  word  of  God,  we  are  then 
bound  to  receive  with  implicit  fubmiffion,  on  the  fole  au- 
thority of  that  word,  thofe  fubllme  truths,  which  are  far 
beyond  the  reach  of  any  finite  underftanding,  but  which 
it  was  natural  and  reafonable  to  expeft  in  a  revelation  per- 
taining to  that  incomprehenfible  Being,  whofe  "  greatnefs 
is  unfearchable,  and  whofe  ways  are  paft  finding  out.'^ — 
Let  us  not,  in  ftiort,  "  exercife  ourfelves  too  much  and  too 
curioufly  in  great  matters,  which  are  too  high  for  us,  but 
refrain  our  fouls,  and  keep  them  lowf .  Laying  afide  all 
the  fuperfluity  of  learning,  and  all  the  pride  of  hum-an 
wifdom,  let  us  hold  faft  the  profeffion  of  our  faith,  without 

*  This  M.  Voltaire  himfelf  acknovvledcrcs.  and  it  U  a  complete  an- 
fwer  to  all  the  objedions  he  has  made  in  various  parts  of  his  works  to 
the  myilcries  of  revelation.  See  ^ejlicnsfur  V Encyclopedic.  Article. 
Ame. 

''The  whole  Intelleilual  world  is  full  of  truths  incomprebenfille^  and 
yet  iricontejiable.  Such  is  the  dcdlrine  of  the  exiftence  of  God,  and 
luch  are  the  myfteries  admitted  in  Protejlant  communion^."  R-ouffeau, 
V,  2.  ii.   15. 

t  Pfalm,  cx:?xi.  ^.  %. 


39S  LECTURE     XXiV. 

wavering  and  without  cavilling  at  what  we  cannot  compre- 
hend. Let  us  put  ourfelves,  without  relerve,  into  the  hands 
of  our  heavenly  guide,  and  fubmit,  with  bound iefs  confi- 
dence, to  his  direction,  who,  as  he  died  to  fave  us,  will  cer- 
tainly never  miflead  us.  Since  w^e  kno'w  in  whom  vre  believe ; 
fmce  we  know  that  the  author  of  our  religion  is  the  Son  of 
God,  let  us  never  forget  that  this  gives  him  a  right,  a  divine 
right  to  the  obedience  of  our  underftandings,  as  well  as 
to  the  obedience  of  our  will.  Let  us  therefore  refolutely 
beat  down  every  bold  imagination,  every  high  thing  that 
exalteth  Itfelf  agalnft  the  myfterlous  truths  of  the  Gof- 
pel  ;  bringing  into  captivity  every  thought  to  the  obedi- 
ence of  Chrift,  and  receiving  with  meeknefs  the  ingrafted 
word,  which  is  able  to  fave  our  fouls^." 

Yet,  however  firmly  we  may  believe  all  the  great  eflen- 
tial  doctrines  of  the  Gofpel,  this  alone  will  not  enfure  our 
falvation,  unlefs  to  our  faith  v.^e  add  obedience  to  ail  the 
laws  of  Chrift.  This  w^e  are  exprefsly  told  in  the  con- 
cluding verfe  of  this  chapter.  After  our  Lord  had  pre- 
fcribed  to  his  difciples  the  fonn  of  words  to  be  ufed  in 
baptifm,  he  adds,  "  teaching  them  to  obferve  all  things 
whatfoever  I  have  commanded  you."  As  this  is  the  part- 
ing diredion,  the  farewel  injun-ftion  v/hich  Jefus  left  with 
his  difciples  jufi  before  he  afcended  Into  heaven,  it  fhows 
what  peculiar  ftrefs  he  laid  upon  It.  It  fhows  that  by 
making  it  the  conclufion,  the  winding  up  as  It  were  of 
his  Gofpel,  he  meant  to  exprefs,  in  the  ftrongefi:  manner, 
the  indlfpenfable  necefiity  cf  a  holy  life  refalting  from  a 
vital  faith.  He  meant  to  intimate  to  his  ov/n  difciples, 
and  to  tlie  minifters  of  his  Gofpel  in  every  future  age,  that 
it  was  to  be  one  principal  objedl  of  their  inftrudlons,  and 
exhortations,  to  inculcate  all  the  virtues  of  a  Chrlftian 
life,  and  an  unreferved  obedience  to  all  the  precepts  of 
their  divine  ^'lafter.  And  w^hoever  ncglefts  this  branch 
of  his  duty,  is  guilty  of  manlfefting  a  marked  contempt 
of  the  very  laft  command  that  fell  from  the  lips  cf  his 
departing  Lord. 

The  few  words  that  follow  this  command,  and  which 
conclude  tlie  Gofpel  of  St.  Matthew,  contain  a  promlfc 

James,  i.   2i. 


LECTURE     XXIV.  S99 

full  of  confolation,  not  only  to  the  apoftles  themfelves, 
but  to  all  the  minifters  of  the  Gofpel  in  every  fucceeding 
age.  "  And,  lo,  fays  our  bleffed  Lord,  I  am  with  you 
alway,  even  unto  the  end  of  the  vv^orld.'*  That  is,  al- 
though I  am  now  about  to  leave  you  and  afcend  into 
heaven,  and  can  no  longer  be  perfonally  prefent  with  you, 
yet  the  Holy  Spirit,  whom  I  have  repeatedly  promifed  to 
fend  unto  you,  fliall  certainly  come  to  fupply  my  place, 
(hall  conftantly  abide  with  you,  and  fhall  enlighten,  guide, 
affift,  fupport,  and  confort  you  to  the  end  of  the  world. 

Here  ends  the  Gofpel  of  St.  Matthew.  But  it  muft 
be  obferved,  that  in  this  laft  part  of  our  Saviour's  hiftory, 
he  has  been  much  more  conclfe  than  the  other  evangelifts, 
and  has  palTed  over  feveral  circumftances  which  they  have 
recorded,  and  of  which  it  may  be  proper  to  take  fome 
notice  here,  before  we  clofe  this  Lefture.  It  appears  from 
the  other  evangelifts,  and  from  the  A<5ls  of  the  Apoftles, 
that  Jefus  continued  among  his  difciples  for  forty  days  af- 
ter his  refurredion,  giving  them  repeated  and  infallible 
proofs  cf  his  being  aflually  raifed  from  the  dead,  and 
"  fpeaking  to  them  of  the  things  pertaining  to  the  king- 
dom of  God--." 

In  one  of  thefe  difcourfes,  he  took  occafion  to  advert 
more  particularly  to  thofe  things  that  were  written  in  the 
law  of  Mofes,  and  in  the  prophets,  and  in  the  Pfalms, 
concerning  him.  He  Ihowed  how  exactly  and  minutely 
all  the  predidions  refpe(fling  him  contained  in  tliofe  facred 
books  were  accomplilhed  in  his  birth,  his  life,  his  doctrines, 
his  fufferings,  his  death,  and  his  refurredion. 

This  ftamps  at  once  a  divine  authority  on  thofe  books, 
and  gives  a  fan6tion  to  the  interpretation  of  the  pafTages 
alluded  to,  and  the  application  of  them  to  cur  bleiled 
Lord,  by  our  beft  and  moft  learned  expofitors. 

It  is  added,  that  on  this  occafion  he  opened  tlieir  under- 
ftandings,  that  they  might  underftand  the  Scriptures,  and 
faid  unto  them,  "  Thus  it  is  written,  and  thus  it  behoved 
Chrift  to  iiuTer,  and  rife  from  the  dead  the  third  day  ;  and 

'   Luke,  xxlv-  44-     Acts,  I,    ?. 


«00  LECTURE     XXIV. 

that  repentance  and  remiffion  of  fins  ftiould  be  preached  iu 
his  name  amongfl:  all  nations,  beginning  at  Jerufalem." 

He  entered,  we  fee,  at  large  Into  the  great  evangelical 
dodlrines  of  the  atonement,  of  the  redemption  of  man- 
kind by  his  death,  of  the  refurretftion,  of  repentance,  and 
the  remiffion  of  fms  through  faith  in  his  name.  Thefe 
are  raoft  important  topics,  and  his  illuftration  of  them  to 
his  difciples  muft  have  opened  to  them  an  invaluable  treaf- 
ure  of  divine  knowledge.  And  as  thefe  docftrines  are  but 
briefly  touched  upon  in  the  Gofpels,  and  more  fully  un- 
folded and  explained  in  tlie  Acls  and  the  Epiftles,  it  is 
highly  probable  that  a  very  confiderable  part,  if  not  the 
whole  of  what  paffed  in  thefe  difcourfes  of  our  Lord  to 
his  difciples  after  his  refurredtion,  is  faithfully  preferved 
and  detailed  in  thofe  infpired  writings.  This  places  in  a 
very  ftrong  light  the  high  importance  of  thofe  writings, 
and  the  high  rank  they  ought  to  hold  in  our  eftimation,  as 
forming  an  effential  part  of  the  Chriftian  fyftem,  and 
completing  the  code  of  dodlrines  and  of  duties  contained 
in  that  divine  revelation. 

It  is  remarkable  alfo,  that  St.  Matthew  has  made  no 
mention  of  the  concluding  aft  of  our  Lord*s  life  on  earth, 
his  afcenfion  into  heaven.  The  reafon  of  this  omifllon  it 
is  not  perhaps  very  eafy  to  affign,  nor  is  it  neceffary.  We 
know,  that  in  feveral  other  inftances  various  circumilances 
are  omitted  by  one  evangeliit  which  are  fupplied  by  the  reft, 
and  others  palled  over  by  thofe  v/hich  are  noticed  by  the  for- 
mer ;  a  plain  proof  by  the  v\ray  that  they  did  not  write  in 
concert  with  each  other,  but  each  related  his  own  ftory, 
and  feleded  fuch  facls  and  events  as  appeared  to  him  mofl 
deferving  of  notice. 

In  tlie  prefent  cafe  it  is  faihclent  for  our  fatisfaftion  that 
the  afcenfion  is  related  by  two  of  the  evangelifts*  St.  Mark 
and  St.  Luke.  The  latter  of  thefe  tells  us  in  his  Gofpei, 
and  in  the  Ads,  "  that  Jefus  led  out  his  apoftles  (and  tlie 
difciples  that  were  with  them)  to  Bethany,  and  he  lifted 
up  his  hands  and  bleffed  them.  vVnd  it  came  to  pafs  while 
heblelfed  them  he  v/as  parted  from  them,  and  carried  up 
into  heaven,  and  a  cloud  received  him  out  of  their  figlit. 


L  E  G  T  U  p.  E     XXIV.  401 

And  while  they  looked  fledfailly  towards  heaven,  as  he 
went  up,  behold,  two  men  ftood  by  them  in  white  apparel ; 
which  alfo  faid,  Ye  men  of  Galilee,  why  ftand  ye  gazing 
up  into  heaven  ?  This  fame  Jefus  which  is  taken  up  fromt 
you  into  heaven,  (hall  fo  come  in  like  manner  as  ye  have 
feen  him  go  into  heaven.  And  they  worfhipped  him,  and 
returned  to  Jerufalem  with  great  joy  ;  and  were  continu- 
ally in  the  temple,  praifmg  and  bleffing  God*." 

The  laft  obfervation  I  have  to  make  Is,  that  neither  St. 
Matthew,  nor  any  other  of  the  evangelifts,  have  given 
us  a  full  and  complete  hiftory  of  every  thing  that  oui*  Sav- 
iour did  during  the  whole  courfe  of  his  miniftry  ;  but 
have  only  recorded  the  moft  important  and  the  mod  re- 
markable of  his  tranfadlions  and  his  miracles.  BefideSy 
therefore,  the  many  irrefutible  proofs  we  already  pofTefs  of 
his  divine  wifdom  and  almighty  pov/er,  there  are  manv 
others  ftill  remaining  behind  which  might  have  been  pro- 
duced, but  which  the  evangelifts  did  not  think  it  nece/Tary 
to  fpecify  ;  for  St.  John,  In  the  20th  chapter  of  his  Gof- 
pel,  makes  this  remarkable  declaration  ;  "  Many  other 
figns  truly  (fays  he)  did  Jefus  in  the  prefence  of  his-difci* 
pies,  which  are  not  written  in  this  book ;  but  thefe  are 
written,  that  ye  might  believe  that  Jefus  is  the  Chrift  the 
Son  of  God,  and  that  believing  ye  might  have  life  through 
his  nan>e."  God  grant  that  this  effeft  may  be  produced 
on  ail  who  nov/  hear  me  ;  otherwife  my  labours,  and  tlieir 
attendance,  \\  ill  have  been  in  vain ! 


I  have  now  brought  thefe  Le<5iures  to  a  conclufion,  and 
muft  here  take  my  final  leave  of  you.  It  was  my  origi- 
nal intention  and  my  v/iiti  to  have  proceeded  next  to  the 
Afts  of  the  Apoftles,  which  contain  the  hiftory  of  the  firft: 
propagation  of  the  Chriftian  religion,  and  the  aftoniftiing 
progrefs  it  made  through  a  large  par;  of  the  world,  by 
the  preaching  of  the  apoftles  and  their  coadjutors,  after 
our  Lord's  departure  into,  heaven  :  but  I  muft  not  now 
venture  into  fo  large  a  fieU.     Circumftanced  as  I  am,  it 

*  Luke,  xxiv    50—53. 
D   D 


40a  LECTURE    XXIV. 

-^ould  be  prefumption  in  me  to  expect  either  that  Godr 
would  grant  me  time  to  accompHfli  fo  arduous  a  work,  or 
that  you  vv^culd  have  perfeverance  to  bear  with  me  to  the 
conclufion.  I  muft  here,  therefore  dole  my  labors,  at 
ieaft  in  this  place ;  and  mull  now,  for  the  lail  time,  im- 
plore yon  to  think  and  to  meditate  again  and  again  on  the 
important  and  interefting  truths  which  have  been  unfolded 
to  you  in  the  courfe  of  thefe  Lectures,  and  to  form  them 
into  principles  of  adtiou,  and  rules  of  conduct,  for  the 
regulation  and  diredtion  of  the  remaining  part  of  your 
lives. 

In  the  hiftory  of  our  Lord,  as  given  by  St.  Matthew, 
'of  which  I  have  detailed  the  mofl:  efTential  parts,  fuch  a 
fcene  has  been  prefented  to  your  obfervation,  as  cannot  but 
have  excited  fenfations  of  a  very  ferious  and  very  awful 
nature  in  your  minds.  You  cannot  but  have  feen  that  the 
divine  Author  of  our  religion,  is  beyond  comparifon,  the 
moft  extraordinary  and  moft  important  perfonage,  that  ever 
appeared  on  this  habitable  globe.  His  birth,  his  life,  his 
dosftrines,  his  precepts,  his  miracles,  his  fufterings,  hir> 
death,  his  refurreftion,  his  afcenfion,  are  all  without  a 
parallel  in  the  hiftory  of  mankind.  He  called  himfelf  the 
Son  of  God,  the  Meffiah  predicted  in  the  prophets,  the 
great  Redeemer  and  Deliverer  of  mankind,  promifed  in 
the  facred  writings,  through  facceflive  ages,  almoft  from 
the  foundation  of  the  world.  He  fupported  thefe  great 
charaders  with  uniformity,  with  confiftence,  and  with 
dignity,  throughout  the  whole  courfe  of  his  miniftry. 
The  work  he  undertook  was  the  greateft  and  moft  afton- 
ilhing  that  can  be  conceived,  and  fuch  as  before  never  en- 
tered  into  the  imagination  of  man.  It  was  nothing  lefs 
than  the  converfion  of  a  whole  world  from  the  grofleft  ig- 
norance, the  moft  abandoned  wickednefs,  and  the  moft 
fottifii  idolatry,  to  the  knowledge  of  the  true  God,  to  a 
pure  and  holy  religion,  and  to  faith  in  him,  who  was  the 
WAY,  THE  TRUTH,  AND  THE  LIFE.  He  provcd  himfelf 
to  have  a  co.mmliTion  from  heaven,  for  thofe  great  purpo- 
fes,  by  fuch  demonftrations  of  divine  wifdom,  power,  and 
goodiicfs,  as  it  is  irapofllble  for  any  fair  and  ingenuous, 
and  unprejudiced  mind  to  refift..  Of  all  this  you  have 
feen  abundant  inftances  in  the  courfe  of  thefe  Lectures ; 


LECTURE     XXIV.  40S 

and  when  all  thefe  circumftances  are  collcded  into  one 
point  of  view,  they  prefent  fuch  a  body  of  evidence,  as 
muft  overpov/er  by  its  weight  all  the  trivial  difficulties  and 
objedions  that  the  wit  of  man  can  raife  againU  the  divine 
authority  of  the  Gofpel. 

Confider  in  the  firfl  place,  the  tranfcendent  excellence* 
of  our  Lord's  charadler,  fo  infinitely  beyond  that  of  every 
other  moral  teacher ;  the  gentlenafs,  the  calmnefs,  the  com- 
pofure,  the  dignity,  the  integrity,  the  fpotlefs  fandity  of 
his  manners,  fo  utterly  inconfiilent  with  every  idea  of  en- 
thufiafm  or  impofture ;  the  compaffion,  the  kindnefs,  the 
tendernefs  he  exprelfed  for  the  whole  human  race,  even  for 
the  word  of  finners,  and  the  bittereft  of  his  enemies  ;  the 
perfe61:  command  he  had  over  his  own  paflions  j  the  tem- 
per he  preferved  under  the  feverefl:  provocations  ;  the  pa- 
tience, the  meeknefs  with  v/hich  he  endured  the  cruelleft 
infults,  and  the  groileft  indignities ;  the  fortitude  he  dif- 
played  under  the  moft  excruciating  torments  ;  the  fub- 
limity  and  importance  of  his  do(5h-ines ;  the  confummate' 
wifdom  and  purity  of  his  moral  precepts,  far  exceeding 
the  natural  powers  of  a  man  born  in  the  humbleft  iltuation, 
and  in  a  remote  and  obfcure  comer  of  the  world,  without 
learning,  education,  languages,  or  books.  Confider  fur- 
ther the  minute  defcription  of  all  the  moft  material  cir- 
cumftances  of  his  birth,  life,  fufferings,  death,  and  refur- 
redtion,  given  by  the  ancient  prophets  many  hundred  years 
before  he  was  born,  and  exadtly  fulfilled  in  him,  and  him 
only  ;  the  many  aftoniihing  miracles  wrought  by  him  in 
the  open  face  of  day,  before  thoufands  of  fpeftators,  the 
reality  of  which  is  proved  by  multitudes  of  the  moft  un- 
exceptionable witneffes,  who  fealed  their  teftimony  with 
their  blood,  and  was  even  acknowledged  by  the  earlieft 
and  moft  inveterate  enemies  of  the  Gofpel.  Above  all, 
confider  thofe  two  moft  remarkable  occurrences  in  the  hif- 
tory  of  our  Lord,  which  have  been  paiticularly  enlarged 
upon  in  thefe  Lectures,  and  are  alone  fufficient  to  eftablifh 
the  divinity  of  his  perfon  and  of  his  religion  ;  I  mean  his 
wonderful  prediction  of  the  deftnKflion  of  Jerufalem  by 
the  Romans,  with  every  minute  circumftance  attending 
it ;  and  that  aftoniftiing  and  well  autlienticated  miracle 
of  his  refijrredion  from  the  grave,  which  was  in  the  laft 


404  LECTURE     XXIV. 

Lexfture  fet  before  you :  and  when  you  lay  all  thefe  thmgfe- 
together,  and  weigh  them  deliberately  and  impartially, 
your  minds  mull  be  formed  in  a  very  peculiar  manner  in- 
deed, if  they  are  not  mofc  thoroughly  imprefled  with  faith 
in  the  Son  of  God,  and  the  Gofpei  which  he  taught. 

Taking  it  then  for  granted,  that  you  firmly  believe  the 
Scriptures  to  be  the  Word  of  God,  that  of  courfe  they 
contain  thofe  heavenly  dodrines  and  rules  of  life  by  which 
you  are  ta  be  guided  here  and  faved  hereafter  ;  that  the 
prefent  fcene  is  nothing  more  than  a  ftateof  trial  and  pro- 
bation for  another  world  ;  that  all  mankind  muft  rife  from 
the  grave,  and  (land  before  the  judgment  feat  of  Chrift, 
to  receive  from  his  lips  their  final  doom  ;  and  that  there  is 

NO  OTHER  NAME  GIVEN  UNDER  HEAVEN  BY  WHICH  YOU 
CAN     BE    SAVED,     BUT    THAT    OF    JesUS    ONLY   ;     HO    Other 

poffible  way  of  efcaping  the  punifliments,  or  obtaining 
the  rewards  of  the  Chriftian  covenant,  but  faith  in  Chrift, 
reliance  on  his  merits,  and  an  eameft  endeavor  to  pra6tife 
every  virtue  and  fulfil  every  duty  prefcribed  in  his  Gofpei ; 
caking  it  for  granted  that  you  believe  all  thefe  things  to  be 
true,  let  me  then  afk  you,  v/hat  is  the  courfe  of  life  which 
every  wife  man,  which  every  man  of  common  fenfe,  muft 
feel  himfelf  irrefiftibly  called  upon  to  purfue  ?  Is  it  poffible, 
that  with  fuch  awful,  fuch  divine  truths  as  theffe,  deeply 
imprefied  upon  your  fouls,  you  can  allow  yourfelves  to  be 
fo  entirely  occupied  with  the  various  purfuits  of  this  life, 
as  to  exclude,   I  will  not  fay  j?.Il  thought  (for  that  is  impofli- 
ble)  but  all  ferious  folicitude  concerning  your  future  and 
eternal  deftiny  ?  Are  there  any  delights  that  this  world 
has  to  offer,  that  can  compenfate  for  the  lofs  of  heaven  ? 
Some  Qi  you  have  perhaps  run  your  career  of  power,  of 
pleafure,  of  gaiety,  of  luxury,  of  glory,  and  of  fame,  and 
can  tell  the  true  amount,    the  real  value  of  thefe  -enjoy- 
ments.    Say  then  honeftly,  whether  any  one  of  them  has 
anfwered  your  expedations :  whether  they  liave  left  your 
minds  perfedtly  content  and  fatisfied  ;  whejhei*  they  have 
proved  fo  folid,  fo  durable,  fo  perfect,  as  to  be  v/orth  pur- 
chafing  at  the  expence  of  eternal  happinefs  ?  I  will  venture 
to  abide  by  your  anfwer.     Trull  then  to  your  own  experi- 
ence, and  be  no  longer  the  dupes  of  iilufions  which  have 
fo  long  nvifi^d  yoj."^  And  if  you  have  any  feeling,  any 


LECTURE     XXIV.  405 

futy  for  the  young,  the  thoughtlefs,  and  the  inexperiencec?^ 
let  them  profit  by  the  inftruclions,  the  falutary  leffons  ycii 
are  fo  well  qualified  to  give  them  ;  let  your  'warning  votes- 
reftrain  them  from  rufhing  headlong  into  thofe  errors,  into 
which  you  have  perhaps  been  unfortunately  betrayedi 
Tell  them  (for  you  know  it  to  be  true,)  that  whatever  flat- 
tering profpedts  the  world  may  prefent  to  their  ardent  im- 
aginations at  their  firft  entrance  into  life,  there  is  no  folid 
ground  for  permanent  comfort  and  content  of  mind,  but 
a  confcientious  difcharge  of  their  duty  to  God  and  man, 
an  anxious  endeavor  to  recomm.end  themfelves  to  the  favor 
of  the  Almighty,  and  a  hope  of  pardon  and  acceptance 
Through  the  merits  of  their  Redeemer.  Thefe  alone  can 
fmooth  the  path  of  life  and  the  bed  of  death  ;  thefe  alone 
can  bring  a  man  peace  at  the  laftv 

Refledions  fuch  as  thefe  muft,  in  ail  times,  and  under 
all  circumftances,  operate  moft  powerfully  on  every  con- 
fiderate  mind  ;  but  they  receive  tenfold  weight  from  the 
peculiar  complexion  of  the  prefent  period,  and  the  awful 
fituation  into  v^hich,  by  the  difpenfations  of  Providence, 
we  are  now  cafi:.  Never  fmce  the  world  began  v/ere  fuch 
tremendous  proofs  held  up  to  the  obfervadon  of  mankind, 
of  the  flender  and  precarious  tenure  en  which  we  hold 
every  thing  that  we  deem  moft  valuable  in  the  prefent  life, 
as  have  been  of  late  prefented  to  our  view.  Look  around 
you  for  a  moment ;  confider  what  has  been  paffing  on  the 
continent  of  Europe  for  the  laft  ten  years,  and  then  fay 
what  is  there  left  for  you  in  this  world  worthy  of  your  at- 
tention, on  the  pofleffion  of  which,  for  any  length  of  time; 
you  can  with  any  degree  of  fecurity  rely  ?  You  muft  have 
been  very  inattentive  obfervers  indeed,  not  to  have  perceived 
that  all  the  great  objec^ts  of  human  wifhes,  rank,  power, 
honor,  dignity,  fame,  riches,  pleafures,  gaieties,  all  the 
pomp,  and  pride,  and  fplendor,  and  luxury  of  life,  may, 
wJien  you  leaft  think  of  it,  contrary  to  all  expectation  and 
all  probability,  be  fwept  away  from  you  in  one  moment, 
and  you  yourfelves  thrown  as  it  v/ere  a  miferable  wreck  ciz 
fome  defert  fhore,  not  only  witho-Jt  the  elegs.ncies  and  the 
comforts,  but  even  without  the  common  neceiTaries  of  life. 
That  this  is-  no  imaginary  reprefentation  you  all  know  too 
well ;  you  fse  tc:o  many  melancholv  nroofs  of  it  in  thcie 


406  LECTURE     XXIV. 

unfortunate  exiles,  who  have  taken  refuge  Ip  this  country  j 
many  of  whom  have  experienced,  in  the  utmoft  extent, 
the  very  calamities  I  have  been  here  defcribirig  ;  and  who, 
but  a  few  years  ago,  had  as  little  reafon  to  expedl  fuch  a 
dreadful  reverfe  of  fortune  as  any  one  who  now  hears  me. 

It  is  true,  indeed,  that  hitherto  we  have  been  moft 
wonderfully  pxeferved  by  a  kind  Providence  from  thofe 
miferies  that  have  defolated  the  reft  of  Europe,  and  have 
maintained  a  noble,  though  a  bitter  conflidl,  during  ma^ 
ny  years,  for  our  religion,  our  liberty,  our  independance, 
our  unrivalled  conftltution,  and  every  thing  that  is  dear 
and  valuable  to  man.  But  it  muft  at  the  fame  time  be 
admitted,  that  we  are  ftlll  in  a  moft  critical  and  doubt- 
ful  fituation,  and  that  our  final  fuccefs  muft  principally 
depend  on  that  to  which  we  have  a  thoufand  times  ow^d 
our  prefervation,  the  favor   and  protedion  of  heaven. 

The  rapid  the  aftonllliing,  the  unexampled  viciflitudes, 
which  have  repeatedly  taken  place  during  the  whole  of  this 
arduous  conteft,  moft  clearly  fliew,  that  there  is  fome- 
thing  in  it  more  than  common,  fomething  out  of  the  or- 
dinary courfe  of  human  affairs,  fomething  which  baffles 
all  conjedure  and  all  calculation,  and  which  all  the  wiC- 
dom  of  man  cannot  comprehend  or  control.  What  then 
is  this  fomething,  what  is  this  fecret  and  invifible  agent 
v/hich  fo  evidently  over-rules  every  important  event  in  the 
prefent  convulfed  ftate  of  the  world,  and  fo  frequently 
confounds  the  beft  conferted  projects  and  defigns  ?  Is  it 
fate,  is  it  neceffity,  is  it  chance,  is  it  fortune  ?  Thefe, 
alas !  we  all  know,  are  mere  names,  are  mere  unmean- 
ing words,  by  v/hlch  we  exprefs  our  total  ignorance  of 
the  true  caufe.  That  caufe  can  be  nothing  elfe  than  the 
hand  of  that  omnipotent  Being,  who  firft  created  and 
ftill  preferves  the  univerfe  ;  v/ho  is  "  the  governor  among 
the  nations,  and  ruleth  unto  the  ends  of  the  earth."  To 
make  him  then  our  friend  Is  of  the  very  laft  importance  ; 
and  It  highly  behoves  us  to  confider,  whether  we  have 
hitherto  taken  the  right  way  to  make  him  fo.  The  an-, 
fwer  to  this  queftlon  Is,  I  fear,  to  be  found  in  the  unfavor- 
able afpeft  of  affairs  abroad,  and  the  fcvere  dlftrefles  arif- 
ing  from  unpropitious  feafons  at  home,  which  too  plainly 


LECTURE     XXIV.  40? 

{hew  that  the  hand  of  the  Almighty  is  upon  us,  that  we 
are  a  fmful  people,  and  He  an  offended  God*. 

Let  it  not  however  be  imagined,  that  I  am  here  hold- 
ing the  language  of  defpondency  and  defpair  ;  no,  noth- 
ing can  be  farther  from  my  thoughts.  But  in  the  prefent 
calamitous  fituation  of  this  courtry,  this  glorious  and  ilill 
unrivalled  country,  to  which  all  our  hearts  are  bound  by 
a  thoufand  indifToluble  ties,  it  would  have  been  unpardon- 
able in  me  to  have  pafTed  over  with  unfeeling  apathy  and 
cold  indifference  thofe  awakening  and  unexampled  events, 
which  are  forcing  themfelves  every  moment  on  our  obfer- 
vation,  and  which  call  aloud  on  all  the  fons  of  men  to  re- 
fle(5t  and  to  repent.  I  felt  it  to  be  my  indifpenfablc  duty, 
in  this  my  laft  folemn  addrefs  to  you,  to  prefs  upon  you 
every  motive  to  a  holy  life  that  could  influence  the  heart 
of  man,  and  with  this  view  to  draw  your  attention  to  all 
thole  aftonifhing  fcenes  that  are  daily  paffing  before  your 
eyes,  and  which  add  irrefiftible  force  to  every  thing  that 
has  been  advanced  in  the  courfe  of  thefe  Leftures.  You 
now  fee  difplayed,  in  vifible  charaders,  in  the  adual  vi- 
ciflitudes  of  almofl  evey  hour,  thofe  great  truths  which  I 
have  been  for  four  years  pad  inculcating  in  words ;  the 
uncertainty  of  every  earthly  bleffing,  the  vanity  of  all 
human  purfuits,  the  inftability  of  all  worldly  happinefs, 
and  the  abfolute  neceflity  of  looking  out  for  fome  more 
iblid  ground  to  ftand  upon,  fome  more  durable  ireafares 
on  w^hich  to  fix  our  affections  and  our  hearts.  For  many 
years  pad  God  has  been  fpeaking  to  us  by  the  various  dif- 
penfations  of  his  providence,  by  ads  of  mercy  and  of 
juftice,  by  his  interpofitions  to  fave  us,  by  his  judgments 
to  cor-reft  us.  He  has  been  fpeaking  a  language  which 
cannot  be  mifunderftood,  a  language  which  is  heard  in 
every  quartei  of  the  globe,  which  makes  all  nature  trem- 
ble, and  {hakes  the  very  foundations  ot  the  earth. 

Yet  (till,  though  there  is  juff  caufe  fcr  apprehenfion, 
there  is  no  occafion  for  defpair.  If  from  thefe  judgments 
of  the  Lord,  we  learn  that  leffon  they  were  meant  to  teach 
us;    if  we   turn,  without    delay,  from   the  evil  of  our 

*  ThisLcdiire  was  given  iin  the  Spring  of  the  yesr  rSoi 


408  I.  E  C  T  U  R  E    XXIV. 

-lyays ;  if  we  humble  ourfelves  under  the  mighty  hand  of 
God,  and  acknowledge  our  tranfgrefiions  with  the  trueft 
penitence   and  contrition  of  foul ;  if  we  fet  ourfelves  in 
earned  to  relinquifli  every  vicious  habit,  every  fecret  fault, 
as  well  as  every  prefumptuOus  fm ;  if  we  deny  ourfelves, 
and  take  up  our  crofs  to  follow  Chrift  ;  if  we  lay  our  fol- 
lies, our  vanities,  our  gaieties,  our  criminal  indulgencies, 
at  the  feet  of  our  Redeemer,  and  purify  ourfelves  even 
as  he  is  pure  ;  if  in  thefe  times  of  unexampled  fcarcity  of 
all  the  necefTaries  of  life,  we  open  our  hearts  and  our  hands 
wide  to  the  neceflities  of  our  fufifering  brethren ;  if,  in 
fhort,  by  the  purity   of  our  hearts,  the   fanftity  of  our 
lives,  the  fervor  of  our  devotions,  the   fmcerity  of  our 
faith  and  confidence  in  Chrift,  we  recommend  ourfelves  to 
the  favor  of  heaven,  I  fcruple  not   to  fay,  that  we  have 
nothing  to  fear.     By   the  mighty  hand  of  God  we  ftiall 
be  protecSed  here ;  by  the  merits  of  him  who  died  for  us 
we  ihall  be  faved  and  rewarded  hereafter.     And  we  may, 
I  truft,  in  this  cafe,  humbly  apply  to  ourfelves  that  confo- 
latory  declaration    of  the  Almighty  to  another  people, 
with  which  i  fiiall  finally  clofe  thefe  Ledures  ;  and  which 
may  God  in  his  infinite  mercy  confirm  to  us  all  in  this 
world,  and  in  the  next  I 

"  How  can  I  give  thee  up,  Ephraim  ?  My  foul  is 
turned  v/ithin  me.  I  will  not  execute  the  fiercenefs  of  my 
ano-er,  for  I  am  God,  and  not  man.  In  a  little  wrath  I 
hid  my  face  from  thee  for  a  moment  :  but  with  everlaft- 
kig  kindnefs  *  will  I  have  mercy  upon  theef.'* 

»  This  khidnsfs  has  in  fa6l  (as  hr  as  the  public  welfare  Is  con- 
cerned) been  in  feveral  important  inllances  moft  gracioufly  and  con- 
fpicuoufly  extended  to  this  highly  favoured  land  fince  thefe  LeAures 
■were  finifted ;  and  it  evidently  calls  for  every  return  on  our  part  of  af- 
fe(5llQn  and  obedience  to  our  heavenly  Banefadtor.  that  the  deepeft 
fenfe  of  gratitude  can  poffibly  di6tate  to  devout  and  feeling  heart?,— 
March,  i8o;. 

I  Hofea,  xi.  8,  9.         Ifalah,  liv.  8. 


THE      END. 


